The Cavendon Luck

SEVEN

Harry had left Harrogate behind and was driving north, heading for Cavendon, filled with relief that Pauline had revealed why she had acted so oddly this afternoon.

He chuckled to himself. How well she knew him after only a few months. If she had told him when he had arrived this afternoon that her husband was on his way back to Yorkshire, he would have left immediately. She had not wanted to forgo their tryst and so had kept it from him.

Pauline Mallard. What a unique woman she was. Stunningly beautiful, with her luxuriant dark auburn hair, pure white skin and amber-coloured eyes. She had a flair for clothes, and the money to buy the best, and consequently everyone stared at her wherever she went. She caused quite a stir. Women envied her looks; men undoubtedly lusted after her.

He loved her, was devoted to her, and if she finally agreed to divorce Sheldon Faircross, he would marry her at once. Not only were they well matched sexually, he enjoyed her company, found her extremely intelligent. Also, she was knowledgeable about so many things. She was a wonderful companion. And she made him laugh with her quirky sense of humour.

As he drove on he thought of a conversation he had had with his mother recently. To his surprise he had found himself confessing that he wanted to get married because he wanted children. Not one, or two, but lots.

How he envied Miles and Cecily with their little brood, and Daphne and Hugo with their five marvellous offspring.

That’s what life was all about, wasn’t it? Marrying a special woman and creating a wonderful family; a family to love and protect and cherish.

Harry winced as he remembered his mother’s comment after he had confided his wish for children. She had told him in a cold voice that his current lady-love was far too old for child-bearing; she had added that his secret love affair was about to go public.

When he had tried to explain his feelings for Pauline, his mother had shushed him up and terminated their conversation.

But he was well aware why Cecily wanted to talk to him. She was going to chastise him and tell him to end his relationship with a woman who was married. His sister disapproved, and there was no doubt his mother had egged Cecily on to have a confrontation with him.

Pauline must leave her husband, that’s the only way to go, Harry decided, as he turned off the main road and on to Cavendon land.

And as always when he came back here, even after only a few hours, he felt a rush of happiness, contentment and a sense of belonging. This land was home … this land he tended and protected with love in his heart. This was where he belonged.

Harry never saw the girl on the bicycle who was racing down the lane on the left side of Cavendon Road, heading for Little Skell village. He was only aware he had hit her when he heard the crunching sound, a high-pitched scream, saw a pair of bare legs in the air, and then felt a thud.

Pulling on the brake at once, Harry jumped out of the car filled with alarm. He saw the bent front wheel of the bicycle on the ground, but there was no sign of the girl. He looked to his left, then his right, and was baffled.

A moment later, a girl’s voice cried, ‘I’m here in the ditch. Can you help me please?’ He ran across the road and up on to the grass verge, as a mop of curly red hair appeared on the edge of the ditch. The girl was pulling herself up, holding on to tufts of grass and weeds.

Thank God she’s not dead, Harry thought. He knelt down on the grass, offered his outstretched hands. She took hold of one of them, and then the other. He pulled her up, and a moment later she was crouching next to him, panting heavily.

Harry looked at her, his eyes scanning her swiftly. ‘Are you injured? Does anything hurt?’ he asked worriedly, concerned about her.

‘I don’t think anything is broken,’ she answered frowning. ‘I do feel a bit shaken up, though.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ he answered. ‘I’m so sorry I hit you. I didn’t see you coming down the side lane, I’m afraid. Perhaps I ought to drive you to the hospital in Harrogate and have you checked for injuries.’

The girl shook her head vehemently. ‘No, no, I’m perfectly all right, but thank you.’

Harry said, somewhat insistently, ‘I do think you should see a doctor. You could have internal injuries. Yes, I’d better get you to a doctor.’

The girl burst out laughing, and shook her head again. ‘I’d know if something was damaged. Honestly I would. My brothers say I’m a tough bit of stuff.’ She half smiled, and went on, ‘I must apologize. I was riding my bike far too fast. So sorry about that.’

Harry nodded, and said, ‘If you’re certain you’re all right, I won’t insist on a trip to the hospital.’

‘I am sure.’ The girl straightened her colourful floral frock, pulled up her white socks, then brushed her hands over the cotton frock. ‘Not even the dress is damaged,’ she announced, her eyes twinkling. Thrusting out her right hand, she said, ‘Thank you for hauling me out of the ditch. I’m Phoebe Bellamy, by the way.’

‘Harry Swann,’ he answered, smiling at her, taken with her girlishness, her friendly manner. She had a pretty face covered with freckles and hazel eyes. He thought she was about twelve years old, and he had no idea who she was. He wondered why she was on Cavendon land.

Giving him a surprised stare, Phoebe cried excitedly, ‘Are you one of the famous Swanns of Cavendon? You’re not related to Cecily Swann, the Fashion Queen of the World, are you?’

Chuckling at this description of Cecily, he answered, ‘She’s my sister.’

‘Oh gosh! Oh wow! Oh my goodness me! What an honour to meet you, Mr Swann.’

Harry was amused by her undisguised enthusiasm. He said, ‘And so you are Phoebe Bellamy. Nice to meet you, and I’m truly sorry it was in such an unfortunate way. Now, where does Miss Phoebe Bellamy live? It must be somewhere close.’

‘It is, Mr Swann. I’m staying with my uncle, Commander Jollion.’

‘I know him well, and his son, Noel, who must be your cousin.’

‘He is. We’re all staying with Uncle Edgar for the whole summer.’

Harry got up off the grass and offered Phoebe his hand, pulling her to her feet. ‘Let’s see how well you can walk, and let’s hope all is in order. If nothing’s hurting I shall drive you back to Burnside Manor.’

Together Harry and Phoebe crossed the road to the car. He eyed her carefully as they walked and saw that she seemed perfectly normal.

They both stopped when they came to the broken bicycle. Looking down at it, Phoebe said, ‘Oh gosh! What shall I do with the bike?’

‘I’ll put it on the grass verge over there,’ Harry replied. Picking it up, he did so. ‘I’ll send someone for it tomorrow morning. Perhaps we can repair it for you. We have a workshop.’

‘Oh, how nice of you. Thank you, Mr Swann. I’m so sorry I’m causing you so much trouble. Listen, I’m fine. I can walk back to Mowbray.’

‘No, you’re not going to do that. I shall drive you to the manor and explain to Commander Jollion exactly what happened.’

‘That’s not really necessary, the telling part,’ Phoebe protested, sounding alarmed.

‘I shall take the blame,’ Harry insisted. ‘Now, please get into the car, Phoebe.’

EIGHT

Diedre had not slept well. She had spent a restless night, her mind working overtime, so many thoughts spinning around in her head.

For once she had not been worrying about her father and his health. For the last few weekends he had been almost like his old self: much more vigorous, in good form, with his humour restored. She was aware that she shouldn’t ever worry about him. Charlotte loved him and looked after him with great care and diligence. They all owed her a lot.

It had been the favour for Cecily that had occupied her thoughts most of the night – and Greta Chalmers; in particular Greta’s predicament.

With her years of experience in British Intelligence, Diedre knew there were many different ways to get visas and travel documents, and other means by which to extract people from Germany. The problem with the Steinbrenners was that hideous ‘J’ for Jew stamped on their passports. Four brand-new passports would be difficult to obtain. It was the same with visas and travel documents. Four were just too many; even two would be hard to come by. Acquiring one might be impossible, in fact.

She had two contacts who might be able to help. The one she had asked several favours from was the most powerful. He was in the High Command of the Third Reich, and she knew he would do anything for her, if it was at all possible. Yet she was reluctant to ask him. They had been friends for several years; she admired and respected him as a dear friend. She did not want to go to him yet again. And so soon.

Sitting up in bed, blinking in the pale dawn light coming in through the draperies, Diedre bunched the pillows up behind her head, lay back and concentrated on her other contact.

The second one she had to dismiss immediately as well, because he was linked to her first contact. He was also in a powerful position in the High Command, and might easily bring his superior down if caught. She dismissed him as well. Also, he would be more useful in other areas.

It struck her that her own man in Berlin was the best to use. He was young but thought fast on his feet, and had a lot of experience. Also she could telephone him with a degree of impunity.

That was one of her main considerations these days. She had known for several years that telephones were monitored in Germany, and especially foreign phone calls. Undoubtedly the British Embassy in Berlin was not immune; she believed the Gestapo listened in, but she and her man there had their own language, which would be Double Dutch to anyone else.

Glancing at the clock, she saw it was almost six. The household was still sleeping. Jumping out of bed, Diedre went into her bathroom, washed her hands and face, brushed her teeth and combed her hair. Back in her bedroom, she slipped on a silk dressing gown, stepped into her slippers and went downstairs.

Silence reigned. No one was moving about, nothing stirred. No sound except for the ticking of the hall clock. It was just a little too early for Hanson, the footmen, and the maids. But in half an hour the housekeeper would be on duty, and they would all be bustling around preparing for breakfast, and Cook would be in the kitchen, getting an early start.

It was cool and quiet in the library. Diedre sat down at her father’s desk, and leaned back in his big leather chair, thinking for a few minutes. His desk calendar was right in front of her. She stared at it. Oh God, it’s Saturday, she muttered under her breath. Saturday the thirtieth of July. Damn, she thought, then, making a swift decision, she picked up the receiver and dialled the overseas operator and gave her the number in Berlin she wanted.

‘Hallo?’ a man’s voice answered gruffly on the fourth ring.

‘Is Toby Jung still staying there?’

‘Is this his Daffy Dilly?’

‘Yes, it is.’

‘What a pleasure to hear your voice, Daffy. What’s up?’

‘I left a suitcase with you the last time I visited, Toby. I wondered if you knew anyone who might be coming this way and would bring it for me. I’d pay them.’

‘I’ll ask around. What else is new?’

‘Not a lot. How is it in Berlin? I have a friend who might be visiting; she’s asked me about the weather.’

‘Hot as hell. Not a breath of fresh air. The city stinks. We’re all sweating. We need a good wind blowing through.’

‘Weather changes all the time, Toby.’

‘I know that, angel face. About the suitcase. Is it heavy?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘Could one person carry it?’

‘I don’t think so. It needs another person, maybe two more. But they have porters at railway stations, you know, and I’ll provide the gratuities.’

‘I’ll see what I can do. Where are you right now?’

‘Looking at the heather.’

‘For how long?’

‘Two days. Why?’

‘Just needed to know. I’ll get back to you. Next week. At the old place? Will you be there?’

‘I will. Thanks, Toby.’

‘Big kiss, angel face,’ he said and hung up.

Diedre put the receiver back in the cradle and leaned back in the chair. If someone had been listening in, they wouldn’t have understood much. But Toby now knew she wanted to get people out. They always spoke in their own code. His message to her had been about conditions in Berlin, relayed through comments about the weather. All she had to do now was wait and see what he could do, if anything.

Hearing her name being called, Cecily turned her head to the left and saw her brother waving to her. He was walking down the stable block, wearing his riding clothes. He always did on Saturdays because he rode around the estate checking everything out on the Ingham land.

She smiled when he stopped next to her, kissed her on her cheek. ‘You look positively radiant this morning, Ceci,’ he said.

‘Flattery will get you everywhere, as you well know, Harry,’ she answered with a slight laugh, and added, ‘And you don’t look half bad yourself. Have you done your rounds yet?’

‘No. I wanted to see you first. Let’s go down to the gazebo where it’s cool, shall we?’

‘And also very private,’ Cecily pointed out, falling in step with him.

He glanced at her. ‘True. Point well taken. But my office was rather warm this morning … it’s all this July sun.’

‘I’m not going to chastise you or anything like that, you know. You’re a grown man and have every right to lead your life as you see fit. I just wanted to have a little chat, mostly because of Mam.’

Harry exclaimed, ‘She’s not ill or anything like that, is she?’

‘No, of course not, but she is concerned about you.’

‘I know,’ was all he said.

They walked on in silence, lost in their own thoughts. After a while it was Cecily who spoke first. ‘I want to thank you for helping Walter with his riding, Harry. He’s always been a bit frightened of horses, as you well know, and you’ve managed to banish that fear. He loves his riding lessons with you.’

‘And the horse I bought him. She’s a gentle little filly and he’s making wonderful progress. I’m rather proud of him.’

‘He told me yesterday that he’s catching up with David, and that soon he’ll ride better than his big brother.’

Harry chuckled. ‘I think he’s on the right track. By the way, I had a weird experience last night. I knocked a girl off her bicycle.’

Startled, Cecily stared up at him, frowning. ‘A bicycle? Where? Not here on the estate, surely?’

‘Yes, it was. She came hurtling down the main Cavendon Road leading into the village. I didn’t see her.’ He told Cecily the story without any embellishment, and finished, ‘She turned out to be Phoebe Bellamy, Commander Jollion’s niece, and when she found out I was a Swann she wanted to know if I was related to Cecily Swann, the Fashion Queen of the World.’

Cecily burst out laughing, then shook her head, highly amused. ‘I’ve never met Phoebe, but her mother is Commander Jollion’s sister, Adrianna. She has quite a big family. About seven children.’

‘My goodness, that’s quite a brood. But she only mentioned two brothers,’ Harry said as they went into the gazebo. They sat down opposite each other, and Cecily explained, ‘Mam’s not angry with you, Harry, just concerned—’

‘About the possibility of gossip,’ he cut in, his face gloomy.

‘I suppose that does worry her a bit, because of your position here. But she’s more concerned that you’re “on a road to nowhere”, is the way she put it. You told her you want children, and very much so, and she thinks that’s not going to happen because Pauline Mallard is too old.’

Harry nodded, and now a reflective expression slid on to his face. ‘Mam’s right, Pauline is forty-eight, and she herself thinks the same thing. Her child-bearing days are more than likely over. At least that’s what Pauline believes.’

‘She doesn’t look forty-eight, so much younger.’

‘That’s what I said when she told me her age. She’s been very honest and open with me, Ceci. Pauline’s a good woman.’

‘A married woman,’ Cecily said very softly, reaching out, taking hold of Harry’s hand on the table. Holding it tightly, she said, ‘Listen to me, I’m your sister and I know you better than anybody. Therefore, I know you must be madly in love with her to keep this affair going.’ Cecily paused, shook her head slowly, finished, ‘But it’s going nowhere.’

When Harry remained silent, Cecily murmured, ‘I suppose she has an unhappy marriage, right?’

‘Yes, she does. Sheldon travels a lot, and, well, it’s not an intimate relationship, from what she’s told me.’

Cecily couldn’t help sighing. ‘Oh Harry, Harry, that’s what they all say, be it a man or a woman who is committing adultery. It’s the same old story, and has been for centuries. For ever, I suppose.’

‘In Pauline’s case I think it’s true. He has other interests … in a different direction.’

‘What do you mean?’ She lowered her voice when she asked in a cautious tone, ‘Do you mean he’s a homosexual?’

‘She never said that, just that it was not intimate,’ Harry answered sotto voce. ‘And he had different tastes.’

‘I’m not surprised she didn’t say anything else. He could go to jail.’

He nodded. ‘I believe her, Ceci, and that’s that. I do know it would be hard for me to leave her.’

‘Has she ever mentioned getting a divorce?’ Cecily asked, her eyes focused on Harry.

‘She says he’ll never agree to a divorce, and that we have to make the best of it.’

‘I don’t think you should make the best of it, as Pauline calls it! You’re stuck with a woman too old to have your children, and one who obviously won’t get a divorce for some reason.’

Leaning forward, Cecily said emphatically, ‘Harry, please be sensible, think of yourself. And your future. You’re forty years old. Get out now and go your own way. You will meet someone, I just know you will.’

‘That’s very funny talk coming from you. I can remember your litany … you always said you could never love anybody else but Miles. And that’s how I feel about Pauline.’

‘It’s hard, I do know that, I really do. Mam thought it might be a good idea if you could get away for a while, take a holiday. Actually, I wish you could come with us now … to Zurich.’

Harry half smiled. ‘I run this estate with Miles, and when he’s away I have to be here. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t enjoy a holiday with you both in Zurich. I love being with you and Miles. The thing is, though, you take your problems with you, wherever you go. And before you nay-say me, those are words you once said to me about your feelings for Miles.’

Cecily nodded, filled with love for her brother, and also understanding his situation, his emotions. He was in love with a woman he couldn’t marry, one who most likely couldn’t bear his children. Cecily didn’t want to chastise him, or question him, only to comfort him. And encourage him to move on. She wished she could introduce him to someone special, but she did not have anyone in mind at the moment. Anyway, he would resent her interference.

Rising, Cecily said, ‘I’m here for you whenever you need me, Harry, and so is Miles.’

Harry also jumped to his feet, and he took hold of her arm affectionately. ‘I know that, and thank you for caring.’

They went up the path together without speaking, holding hands. He broke away when they arrived at the stable block. After kissing her cheek, Harry murmured, ‘I’ll look after David and Walter whilst you’re gone, Ceci. I love them, you know.’

She nodded. ‘You’re the perfect uncle,’ she responded.

He smiled at her and walked off.

She watched him go, thinking what a good-looking man he was; he was kind and caring as well. And he did love her children. That was only too apparent in the way he spent time with the boys, and taught them so much. What a wonderful father he would make, and certainly a good husband.

Walking towards the terrace, she could not help thinking what a sad life her brother had. He loved Cavendon and his job. He and Miles were the closest of friends and worked well together. He was popular with everyone, and much admired and surrounded by loved ones here.