Winter of Change
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‘Thank you, but no, I am not lost,’ said the man. ‘This is Colonel Pettigrew’s house.’ It was, she realised, a statement, not an enquiry.
She planted her fork in between the roses, dusted off her grubby hands and advanced a few steps. ‘Yes, it is.’ She eyed him carefully; she had never seen him before and indeed, she wouldn’t have forgotten him easily if she had, for he was a handsome man, not so very young any more, but the grey hair at his temple served to emphasise the intense blackness of the rest, and his eyes were as dark as his hair, under thick straight brows. His nose was a commanding one and his mouth was firm above an angular jaw. Oh, most definitely a face to remember.
‘I’ve come to see Colonel Pettigrew.’ He didn’t smile as he spoke, but looked her up and down in a casual uninterested fashion.
She ignored the look. ‘Well, I’m not sure that you should,’ she offered calmly. ‘He’s ill, and at the moment he’s asleep. Doctor Morris will be here presently, and I think he should be asked first, but if you like to come in and wait—you’ll have to be quiet.’
The eyebrows rose. ‘My dear good young woman, you talk as though I were a pop group or a party of schoolchildren! I’m not noisy by nature and I don’t take kindly to being told what I may and may not do.’
‘Oh, pooh,’ said Mary Jane, a little out of patience, ‘don’t be so touchy! Come in, do.’ She added, ‘Quietly.’
The car whispered past her and came to a silent halt at the door, and the man got out. There was a great deal of him; more than six foot, she guessed, and largely built too. She wondered who he was, and was on the point of asking when she heard the bell from her grandfather’s room. ‘There,’ she shot at her companion, a little unfairly, ‘you’ve woken him up,’ and flew upstairs.
The Colonel looked refreshed after his nap. He said at once, ‘I heard a car and voices. I’m expecting someone, but there’s hardly been time…’
Mary Jane shook up a pillow and slipped it behind his head. ‘It’s a man,’ she explained unhurriedly. ‘He’s got beetling eyebrows and he’s got rather a super Rolls. He says he wants to see you, but I told him he couldn’t until Uncle Bob comes.’
A faint smile lighted up her grandfather’s face. ‘Did you, now? And did he mind?’
‘I didn’t ask him.’
Her grandfather chuckled. ‘Well, my dear, if it won’t undermine your authority too much, I should like to see him—now. We have important business. Morris knows he’s coming and I don’t suppose he’ll object. Tell him to come up.’
‘All right, Grandfather, if you say so.’
She found the stranger in the sitting room, sitting in one of the comfortable old-fashioned chairs. He got to his feet as she went in and before she could speak, said: ‘All right, I know my way,’ and was gone, taking the stairs two at a time. She followed him into the hall just in time to hear the Colonel’s door shut quietly on the old man’s pleased voice. After a moment she went slowly into the garden again.
She was still there when Doctor Morris arrived, parked his elderly Rover beside the Rolls, greeted her cheerfully and added in a tone of satisfaction, ‘Ah, good, so he’s arrived—with your grandfather, I suppose?’
Mary Jane pulled a weed with deliberation. ‘Yes, he is—and very high-handed, whoever he is, too. I asked him to wait until you came, but Grandfather heard us talking and wanted to see him at once—he said it was business. He seems better this morning, so I hope you don’t mind?’
The doctor shook his head. ‘No, I’m pleased. You’re both here now—your grandfather was worrying. I’ll go up now.’
He left her standing there. She stared after him; he hadn’t told her who the stranger was, but he obviously knew him. She went indoors, tidied herself and went along to get a tray of coffee ready, to find that Lily had already done so. ‘And lunch, miss—I suppose the gentleman will be staying like last time. I’d better do some extra potatoes, hadn’t I?’
Mary Jane agreed, desiring at the same time to question Lily about the probable guest, but if her grandfather had wanted to tell her, he could have done so, so too could Uncle Bob. If they wanted to have their little secrets, she told herself a trifle huffily, she for one didn’t care. Probably the visitor was a junior partner to her grandfather’s solicitor, but surely he wouldn’t be able to afford a Rolls-Royce? She went outside again and had a good look at the car—it had a foreign number plate and it came from Holland, a clue which she immediately seized upon; the man was someone from her grandfather’s oldest friend, Jonkheer van der Blocq, an elderly gentleman whom she had never met but about whom she knew quite a bit, for her grandfather had often mentioned him. Relieved that she had solved the mystery, she went back indoors in time to meet the doctor coming downstairs.
‘There you are,’ he remarked for all the world as though he had spent the last hour looking for her. ‘Your grandfather wants you upstairs.’ He eyed her thoughtfully. ‘He’s better, but you know what I mean by that, don’t you? For the time being. Now run up, like a good girl. I’ll be in the sitting room.’
She started up the stairs, remembering to call over her shoulder:
‘There’s coffee ready for you—would you ask Lily?’ and sped on to tap on the Colonel’s door and be bidden to enter.
The stranger was standing with his back to the window, his hands in his pockets, and the look he cast her was disconcerting in its speculation; there was faint amusement too and something else which she couldn’t place. Mary Jane turned her attention to her elderly relative.
‘Yes, Grandfather?’ she asked, going up to the bed.
He eyed her lovingly and with some amusement on his tired old face.
‘You’re not a pretty girl,’ he observed, and waited for her to answer.
‘No, I know that as well as you—you didn’t want me up here just to remind me, did you?’ She grinned engagingly. ‘I take after you,’ she told him.
He smiled faintly. ‘Come here, Fabian,’ he commanded the man by the window.
And when he had stationed himself by the bed: ‘Mary Jane, this is Fabian van der Blocq, the nephew of my old friend. He is to be your guardian after my death.’
Her eyes widened. ‘My guardian? But I don’t need a guardian, Grandfather! I’m twenty-two and I’ve never met Mr—Mr van der Blocq in my life before, and—and…’
‘You’re not sure if you like me?’ His voice was bland, the smile he gave her mocking.
‘Since you put the words into my mouth, I’m not sure that I do,’ Mary Jane said composedly. ‘And what do you have to be the guardian of?’
‘This house will be yours, my dear,’ explained her grandfather, ‘and a considerable sum of money. You will be by no means penniless and there must be someone whom I can trust to keep an eye on you and manage your business affairs.’
‘But I—’ She paused and glanced across the bed to the elegant figure opposite her. ‘Oh, you’re a lawyer,’ she declared. ‘I wondered if you might be.’
Mr van der Blocq corrected her, still bland. ‘You wondered wrongly. I’m a surgeon.’
She was bewildered. ‘Are you? Then why…?’ she went on vigorously, ‘Anyway, Grandfather isn’t going to die.’
The old gentleman in the bed made a derisive sound and Mr van der Blocq curled his lip. ‘I am surprised that you, a nurse, should talk in such a fashion—you surely don’t think that the Colonel wishes us to smother the truth in a froth of sickly sentiment?’
Mary Jane drew her delicate pale eyebrows together. ‘You’re horrible!’ she told him in her gentle voice. It shook a little with the intensity of her feelings and she gave him the briefest of glances before turning back to her grandfather, whom she discovered to be laughing weakly.
‘Don’t you mind,’ she demanded, ‘the way this—this Mr van der Blocq talks?’
Her grandfather stopped laughing. ‘Not in the least, my dear, and I daresay that when you know him better you won’t mind either.’
She tossed her untidy head. ‘That’s highly unlikely. And now you’re tired, Grandfather—you’re going to have another nap before lunch.’
To her surprise he agreed quite meekly. ‘But I want you back in the afternoon, Mary Jane—and Fabian.’
She agreed, ignoring the man staring at her while she rearranged blankets, shook up pillows and made her grandfather comfortable. This done to her satisfaction, she made for the door. Mr van der Blocq, beating her to it by a short head, opened it with an ironic little nod of his handsome head, and without looking at him she went through it and down the stairs to where Doctor Morris was waiting.
They drank their coffee in an atmosphere which was a little tense, and when the doctor got up to go, Mary Jane got up too, saying, ‘I’ll see you to your car, Uncle Bob,’ and although he protested, did so. Out of their companion’s hearing, however, she stopped.
‘Look,’ she said urgently, ‘I don’t understand—why is he to be my guardian? He doesn’t even live in England, does he? and I don’t know him—besides, guardians are old…’
The doctor’s eyes twinkled. ‘At a rough guess I should say he was nudging forty.’
‘Yes? But he doesn’t look…’ She didn’t finish the sentence. ‘Well, it all seems very silly to me, and Grandfather…’ She lifted her eyes to her companion. ‘He’s really not going to get any better? Not even if we do everything we possibly can?’
‘No, my dear, and it will be quite soon now. I’ll be back this evening. You know where to find me if you want me.’
She went back slowly to the sitting room and Mr Van der Blocq, lounging by the window, turned round to say: ‘I don’t suppose you got much help from Doctor Morris, did you?’ He went on conversationally, ‘If it is of any comfort to you, I dislike the idea of being your guardian just as much—probably more—than you dislike being my ward.’
Mary Jane sat down and poured more coffee for them both. ‘Then don’t. I mean, don’t be my guardian, there’s no need.’
‘You heard your grandfather. You will be the owner of this house and sufficient money to make you an attractive target for any man who wants them.’ He came across the room and sat down opposite her. ‘I shall find my duties irksome, I dare say, but you can depend upon me not to shirk them.’ He sat back comfortably. ‘Do you mind if I smoke my pipe?’
She shook her head, and suddenly mindful of her duties as a hostess, asked, ‘Where are you staying? Or are you perhaps only here for an hour or two?’ She added hastily, ‘You’ll stay to lunch?’
A muscle twitched at the corner of his mouth. ‘Thank you, I will—and I’m not staying anywhere,’ his dark eyes twinkled. ‘I believe the Colonel expected that I would stay here, but if it’s too much trouble I can easily go to a hotel.’
‘Oh no, not if Grandfather invited you. I’ll go and see about lunch and get a room ready.’ She got to her feet. ‘There’s sherry on the sofa table, please help yourself.’
Lily, she discovered when she got to the kitchen, had surpassed herself with Duchesse potatoes to eke out the cold chicken and salad, and there was a soup to start with; Mary Jane, feverishly opening tins to make a fruit salad, hoped that their guest wouldn’t stay too long; she found him oddly disquieting and she wasn’t even sure if she liked him, not that that would matter overmuch, for she supposed that she would see very little of him. She wasn’t sure what the duties of a guardian were, but if he lived in Holland he was hardly likely to take them too seriously.
Ten minutes later, making up the bed in one of the guest rooms, she began to wonder for how long she was to have a guardian—surely not for the rest of her life? The idea of Mr van der Blocq poking his arrogant nose into her affairs, even from a distance, caused her to shudder strongly. She went downstairs, determined to find out all she could as soon as possible.
CHAPTER TWO
HER INTENTION MET with no success however. At lunch, her questions, put, she imagined, with suitable subtlety, were parried with a faint amusement which annoyed her very much, and when in desperation she tried the direct approach and asked him if, in the event of his becoming her guardian, it was to last a lifetime, he laughed and said with an infuriating calm:
‘Now, why couldn’t you have asked that in the first place? I have no intention of telling you, however. I imagine that your grandfather will explain everything to you presently.’
Mary Jane looked down her unassuming little nose. ‘How long are you staying?’ she asked with the icy politeness of an unwilling hostess. A question which met with an instant crack of laughter on the part of her companion. ‘That depends entirely upon your grandfather’s wishes, and—er—circumstances.’
She eyed him levelly across the table. ‘You don’t care tuppence, do you?’ she declared fiercely. ‘If Grandfather dies…’
She was unprepared for the way in which his face changed, and the quietness of his voice. ‘Not if, when. And why pretend? Your grandfather knows that he is dying. He told me this morning that his one dread as he got older was that he would be stricken with some lingering complaint which would compel him to lie for months, dependent on other people. We should be glad that he is getting his wish, as he is.’ His eyes swept over her. ‘Go and do your face up, and look cheerful, he expects us in a short while, and don’t waste time arguing that he must have another nap; I happen to know that he won’t be happy until he has had the talk he has planned.’
Mary Jane got to her feet. ‘You’ve no right to talk to me like this,’ she said crossly, ‘and I have every intention of tidying myself.’
She walked out of the room, and presently, having redone her face and brushed her hair until it shone, she put it up as severely as possible, under the impression that it made her look a good deal older, and went back downstairs, having first peeped in on the Colonel, to find him dozing. So she cleared away the lunch dishes and was very surprised when Mr van der Blocq carried them out to the kitchen, and because Lily had gone home, washed up, looking quite incongruous standing at the sink in his beautifully cut suit.
The Colonel was awake when they went upstairs; Mary Jane sat him up in his bed, arranging him comfortably with deft hands and no fuss while Mr van der Blocq looked on, his hands in his pockets, whistling softly under his breath.
‘And now,’ said the Colonel with some of his old authority, ‘you will both listen to me, but first I must thank you, Fabian, for coming at once without asking a lot of silly questions—it must have caused you some inconvenience, though I suppose you are now of sufficient consequence in your profession to be able to do very much as you wish. Still, the journey is a considerable one—did you stop at all?’
His visitor smiled faintly. ‘Once or twice, but I enjoy long journeys and the roads are quiet at night.’
Mary Jane cast him a surprised look. ‘You’ve been travelling all night?’ she wanted to know. ‘You haven’t slept?’
He gave her an impatient glance, his ‘no’ was nonchalant as he turned back to the old man in the bed. ‘Enough that I’m here, I’m sure that Doctor Morris wouldn’t wish us to waste your strength in idle chatter.’ A remark which sent the colour flaming into Mary Jane’s cheeks, for it had been so obviously directed against herself.
Her grandfather closed his eyes for a moment. ‘You’re quite right. Mary Jane, listen to me—this house and land will be yours when I die, and there is also a considerable amount of money which you will inherit—that surprises you, doesn’t it? Well, my girl, your mother and father wouldn’t have thanked me if I had reared a feather-brained useless creature, depending upon me for every penny. As it is, you’ve done very well for yourself, and as far as I’m concerned you can go on with your nursing if you’ve set your mind on it, though I would rather that you lived here and made it home,’ he paused, a little short of breath, ‘You’re not a very worldly young woman, my dear, and I’ve decided that you should have a guardian to give you help if you should need it and see to your affairs, and cast an eye over any man who should want to marry you—you will not, in fact, be able to marry without Fabian’s consent.’ He paused again to look at her. ‘You don’t like that, do you? but there it is—until you’re thirty.’
Mary Jane swallowed the feelings which could easily have choked her. She said, keeping her voice calm and avoiding Mr van der Blocq’s eye, ‘And your cousin in Canada, Grandfather? I always thought that he was—that he would come and live—I didn’t know about the money.’
Her grandparent received this muddled speech with a frown and said with some asperity, ‘Dead. His son’s dead too, I believe—there was a grandson, I believe, but no one bothered to let me know. Besides, you love the place, don’t you, Mary Jane?’
She swallowed the lump in her throat. If he was going to be coolly practical about his death, she would try her best to be the same.
‘Yes, Grandfather, you know I do, but I don’t need the money—I’ve my salary…’
‘Have you any idea what a house like this costs in upkeep? Mrs Body, Lily, the rates, the lot—besides, you deserve to have some spending money after these last three years living on the pittance you earn.’
He closed his eyes and then opened them again, remembering something.
‘You witness what I’ve said, Fabian? You understand your part in the business, eh? And you’re still willing? I would have asked your uncle, but that’s not possible any more, is it?’
Mr van der Blocq agreed tranquilly that he was perfectly willing and that no, it was not possible for his uncle to fulfil the duties of a guardian. ‘And,’ he concluded, and his voice now held a ring of authority and firmness, ‘if you have said all you wished to say, may I suggest that you have a rest? We shall remain within call. Rest assured that your wishes shall be carried out when the time comes.’
Mary Jane, without quite knowing how, found herself propelled gently from the room, but halfway down the stairs she paused. ‘It’s so unnecessary!’ she cried. ‘Surely I can run this house and look after my own money—and it’s miles for you to come,’ she gulped. ‘And talking about it like this, it’s beastly…’
He ignored that, merely saying coolly, ‘I hardly think you need to worry about my too frequent visits.’ He smiled a small, mocking smile and she felt vaguely insulted so that she flushed and ran on down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she found Mrs Body, unpacking her shopping. She looked up as Mary Jane rushed in and said: ‘Hullo, Miss Mary Jane, what’s upset you? The Colonel isn’t…?’
‘He’s about the same. It’s that man—Mr van der Blocq—we don’t seem to get on very well.’ She stood in front of the housekeeper, looking rather unhappily into her motherly face. ‘Do you know him?’
‘Lor’, yes, my dear—he’s been here twice in the last few months, and a year or two ago he came with that friend of your grandfather’s, the nice old gentleman who lives in Holland—he’s ill too, so I hear.’
Mary Jane waved this information on one side. ‘He’s staying,’ she said. ‘I don’t know for how long. I made up a bed in the other turret room. Ought we to do something about dinner?’
‘Don’t you worry about that, Miss Mary Jane—the Colonel told me that he’d be coming, so I’ve a nice meal planned. If you’ll just set the table later on—but time enough for that. Supposing you go for a little walk just down to the lake and back. You’ll hear me call easily enough and a breath of air will do you good before tea.’
Mary Jane made for the door and flung it open. She had a great deal to think about; it was a pity she had no one to confide in; she hadn’t got used to the fact that her grandfather was dying, nor his matter-of-fact attitude towards that fact, and the strain of matching his manner with her own was being a little too much for her. She wandered down the garden, resolutely making herself think about the house and the future. She didn’t care about the money, just as long as there was enough to keep everything going as her grandfather would wish it to be. She stopped to lean over a low stone wall, built long ago for some purpose or other but now in disuse. The Colonel, a keen gardener, had planted it with a variety of rock plants, but it had no colour now. She leaned her elbows on its uneven surface and gazed out to the lake and Skiddaw beyond, not seeing them very clearly for the tears which blurred her eyes. It was silly to cry; her grandfather disliked crying women, he had told her so on various occasions. She brushed her hand across her face and noted in a detached way that the mountains had a sprinkling of snow on their tops while the rest of them looked grey and misty and sad. She wished, like a child, that time might be turned back, that somehow or other today could have been avoided. Despite herself, her eyes filled with tears again; she wasn’t a crying girl, but just for once she made no attempt to stop them.
Major had followed her out of the house, and sat close to her now, pressed against her knee, and when he gave a whispered bark she wiped her eyes hastily and turned round. Mr van der Blocq was close by, just standing there, looking away from her, across the lake. He spoke casually. ‘You have had rather a shock, haven’t you? You must be a little bewildered. May I venture to offer you a modicum of advice?’ He went on without giving her a chance to speak. ‘Don’t worry about the future for the moment. It’s not a bad idea, in circumstances such as these, to live from one day to the next and make the best of each one.’
He was standing beside her now, still not looking at her tear-stained face, and when she didn’t reply he went on, still casually:
‘Major hasn’t had a walk, has he? Supposing we give him a run for a short while?’
Mary Jane, forgetful of the deplorable condition of her face, looked up at him. ‘I don’t like to go too far away…’
‘Nor do I, but Mrs Body has promised to shout if she needs us—she’s sitting with your grandfather now, and I imagine we could run fast enough if we needed to.’ He smiled at her and just for a moment she felt warmed and comforted.
‘All right,’ she agreed reluctantly, ‘if you say so,’ and started off along the edge of the lake, Major at her heels, not bothering to see if Mr van der Blocq was following her.
They walked into the wind, not speaking much and then only about commonplace things, and as they turned to go back again Mary Jane had to admit to herself that she felt better—not, she hastened to remind herself, because of her companion but probably because she had needed the exercise and fresh air. She went straight to her grandfather’s room when they got back to the house, but he was still sleeping, so obedient to Mrs Body’s advice she went to the sitting room and had tea with her visitor. They spoke almost as seldom as they had done during their walk; indeed, she formed the opinion that her companion found her boring and hardly worthy of his attention, for although his manners were not to be faulted she had the strongest feeling that they were merely the outcome of courtesy; in other circumstances he would probably ignore her altogether. She sighed without knowing it and got up to feed Major.
When she got back to the sitting room, Mr van der Blocq got to his feet and with the excuse that he had telephone calls to make and letters to write, went away to the Colonel’s study, which, he was careful to explain, his host had put at his disposal, leaving Mary Jane to wander out to the kitchen to help Mrs Body and presently to lay the table in the roomy, old-fashioned dining room before going up to peep once more at her sleeping grandfather before changing from her slacks and sweater into a grey wool dress she had fortuitously packed, aware as she did so of the murmur of voices from the Colonel’s room.
She frowned at her reflection as she smoothed her hair into its neat bun and did her face. If Mr van der Blocq had wakened her grandfather in order to pester him with more papers, then she would have something to say to him! He came out of the adjoining room as she left her own, giving her a wordless nod and standing aside for her to go down the stairs. She waited until they were both in the hall before she said: ‘I think you must be tiring Grandfather very much. I don’t think he should be disturbed any more today—there’s surely no need.’