The Soldier's Return Read online

  ‘Quite.’

  In the hallway, Kate stood rigidly. The woman had to be from a domestic agency, which could mean only one thing: Naomi was looking to employ someone. Oh, dear God, she was going to replace her! Naomi was so cross about what she had allowed to happen to Esme that she was going to dismiss her. Trying to swallow down a lump in her throat, she reached to the half-moon table. Upon it, a Chinese vase stuffed with tulips rocked precariously back and forth. Just in time she shot out a hand, narrowly preventing it from crashing to the floor.

  ‘I see. So—’

  Desperate now to confirm her suspicion, she leant closer to the doorway. If only her heart would stop pounding; she could barely hear a word they were saying.

  ‘But allow me to make enquiries, Mrs Colborne. You have a nice home – compact and modern – in a pleasant street. Leave it with me for a day or two. The moment my enquiries turn up with someone suitable, which I am confident they will, I shall send you a card.’

  With the conversation seemingly drawing to a close, Kate glanced about. Where to hide? The lavatory; yes, she would slip in there.

  Stealing silently across the hallway and taking care to ease the door quietly shut behind her, she stood, breathing heavily, her fists curled tightly and her nostrils filling with the smell of Jeyes Fluid from the drain beyond the window. Plainly, Naomi was planning to replace her. She was about to lose her job; this woman was proof of that. And all because of one little mishap that hadn’t even been truly her fault. After all these years of housekeeping and drudgery – not to mention providing comfort and counsel in Naomi’s many times of need – how unfair was that? Naomi might talk of them being family – when it suited her to – but the truth was that she only had this position at all because Naomi had felt sorry for her – because she had felt bad about her father’s behaviour and what had happened with Ned.

  Yes, when it came to loyalty, Naomi’s would always lie, first and foremost, with her true family: with Ned, and Pamela and Hugh Russell and… Wait. Hugh Russell. What if it wasn’t just coincidence that he had been to visit? What if he had been the one to suggest that she should be got rid of? Be done with the girl; find yourself someone more reliable, he could so easily have advised his daughter. Naomi did hang on his every word. And he did pay Naomi the allowance that, in turn, covered payment of her own little salary. But why? Why would he do that? What axe did he have to grind with her – Kate? He might be an odious man, but he had never seemed a vindictive one – certainly not the sort to bring hardship upon one of his own offspring, which, like it or not, she was. Latterly, he had even taken it upon himself to keep Edith – the woman he had seduced to bring her into this world in the first place – in a home and a job, when it might be argued that he had no obligation to her whatsoever. Oh, dear Lord, what if he was going to stop doing that as well? Coming over all hot and sticky, she flapped at her blouse. No, he wouldn’t do that, would he? No, but his wife might. She had only ever shown complete scorn for her; to this day still referred to her as a farm girl. Oh, Naomi, what the devil were you up to?

  Torn to know what to think, let alone know what to do about it, she sank back against the wall, tears blurring her vision. What on earth would she do without this job? Nowhere else would come even close to being the sort of home this one had been. Yes, she wouldn’t deny that, sometimes, she did miss the peace and quiet of Woodicombe – but that didn’t mean she wanted to go back there. Having to rub along without a proper salary would spell the end for her little bit of independence – not to mention be a considerable blow to her pride. Back in Woodicombe there would be no chance of earning anything like the money she earned here. The best she could hope for down there would be seasonal work in Westward Quay: a chambermaid for holiday makers or waiting on day trippers. Lord, what a come down that would be!

  Leaning against the wall, she felt her insides twisting into knots. She had to make this right. And quickly. But how? How did she do that? She could hardly go behind Naomi’s back to Aunt Diana and ask her to intervene. No, but perhaps, despite her reservations, she could try and talk to Ned. If anyone knew how to get Naomi to reconsider, it would be him. Yes, despite having previously decided against it, she would go and see what he knew, and then ask for his help.

  Having first gone to splash her face and tidy her hair, she arrived outside the door to his room. But, even before she had raised her hand to knock, Nurse Hammond, coming from her own room next door, forbade her to disturb him. ‘I’m afraid not, dear,’ she replied to Kate’s request to speak to him. ‘The lieutenant passed an unusually disturbed night and, at my insistence, is making up for lost sleep.’

  Damnation. Now she would have to confront Naomi directly, which would mean showing her hand. Well, either she had to admit to eavesdropping, or else let matters take their course and wait to see what Naomi did next. Not that she could just wait about; the worry alone would devour her from the insides out. No, she would have to go and see Naomi, have it out with her.

  Feeling as though every inch of her body was on full alert, she made her way slowly back down the stairs. Arriving in the hallway, she paused to stand for a moment and inhale deeply. Although it did nothing to slow her breathing, she went in through the doors to the drawing room anyway, her question for Naomi ready on her lips. To her astonishment, the room was empty. Turning swiftly about, she went to check the dining room – no one there, either. So, where were they?

  Making her way on down to the kitchen, she tried to remember whether Naomi had previously mentioned anything about going out. But then, as she went in through the door, she spotted a chit of paper on the table. Darting towards it, and recognizing Naomi’s handwriting, she snatched it up.

  Shan’t need luncheon today. Esme likewise. N.

  That was it? No Dear Kate? No explanation as to where they had gone? No suggestion of when they would be back? Feeling her shoulders sinking, she hung her head. Such matter-of-factness could only mean that Naomi was nowhere near close to forgiving her, and, in which case, her heart was thudding for good reason.

  Despite putting the note back on the table, she nevertheless continued to stare down at it. Where could Naomi have gone with Esme such that neither of them would need luncheon? Presumably, to Clarence Square; had she been headed anywhere else, then she would have left Esme at home. Well, up until yesterday she would have. She would probably no more do that now than she would allow Esme to go out and play in the street. Dear God, this truly was an awful mess.

  Heaving a long sigh, she turned away from the table. On the other hand, was it a mess? Was there a chance that she was just making a mountain out of a molehill? Was she, her judgement clouded by guilt, seeing trouble where none existed? No. No, sadly, she didn’t believe that she was; the feeling in the pit of her stomach was there for a reason. She was in trouble.

  Distractedly, she turned about. The thought of being dismissed from here made her feel sick. How she would miss Esme. How she would miss seeing her grow up. And Aunt Diana! How she would miss her dry humour, and the way she managed to dish out perfectly sound advice without ever sounding patronising or judgemental. And, despite how sorely mistreated she felt at that precise moment, how she would miss Naomi, too. Desperately so. Granted, Naomi and Ned weren’t family in the truest sense of the word – she was, after all, only a half-sibling, and one born out of wedlock, at that. Nevertheless, until now, she’d thought that the three of them had become close; Naomi and Ned were certainly the nearest things to siblings that she had. But perhaps she had misjudged things. Perhaps, when it came to the people Naomi considered to be family, she languished at the bottom of a very long list; despite Naomi’s various protestations to the contrary over the last few years, perhaps she ranked closer to housekeeper than sister. It was certainly beginning to feel that way.

  Sniffing loudly, she wiped a hand across her eyes.

  And then there was what Luke would have to say when he came home to find that not only had she lost her job and a respectable sala
ry, but that she had cost them their home, too. Disbelieving, that’s what he would be. Utterly disbelieving. And bitterly disappointed in her, too. He would come home from the war, fully expecting to take up employment for Mr Lawrence, only to discover that Naomi no longer wanted them in her home. Oh, dear Lord, what a sorry mess she had made of things.

  Reaching into her pocket for her handkerchief, she blew her nose. She had to pull herself together – if not for herself, then for Luke. She hadn’t lost her job yet. There still existed the chance that she could get Naomi to reconsider – although only if she bucked herself up. Yes! And the only way to do that was to continue to make herself indispensable. And so, to that end, she would go and wash her face, tidy herself up, and then she would come back down and simply get on with her work. She would leave Ned out of it, wait for Naomi to come home, listen to whatever she had to say, apologize profusely for what had happened, and then beg her forgiveness – try to appeal to her sense of fairness. That done, there would be nothing more she could do. She would have tried her hardest. After that, what would be, would be.

  * * *

  ‘I’m afraid I’ve let her become over tired.’

  When Naomi eventually did come through the front door, Esme whimpering in her arms, it was late – by normal standards, far too late for such a small child to still be up. Not that Kate had any intention of pointing that out. No, she was just relieved to see the two of them. The longer it had gone on without them coming home, the more her panic had driven her to imagine all manner of terrible things.

  Closing the front door behind them, she stepped forward to help. ‘Shall I—’

  ‘Entirely my fault for keeping her out,’ Naomi said, sweeping past on her way to the stairs.

  ‘Shall I—’

  ‘Oh, and I shan’t need anything to eat. I dined with Mamma and Papa.’

  Watching Naomi carry Esme up the stairs, Kate stood, rooted to the spot. At least Naomi was talking to her. And in a civilised tone – if not a rather cold and direct one – which had to count for something. That being the case, all she could do was wait to see what happened next.

  For a while after that, she poked about in the kitchen, the hands on the wall-clock showing that it was approaching nine, and it being as much as she could do not to fall asleep standing up. After a truly horrible day, her eyes felt like squares and her skull felt as though she was wearing a tin hat that was several sizes too small. Worse still, having spent the afternoon with her insides twisted into knots, she’d been unable to face even a mouthful of the food she had put on a plate for herself, such that now, she didn’t know whether to attribute her light-headedness to hunger or to fear.

  The only chink of light was that Naomi hadn’t – as she had spent all afternoon picturing – marched straight in and told her to pack her things. In fact, she had seemed strangely subdued. Was it too much to hope that she’d had second thoughts about getting rid of her?

  Hearing Naomi’s light tread on the stairs, she tensed. One way or another, she was about to find out – was about to be put out of her misery. Misery? Huh. If she was right about this, then her real misery was only just about to begin.

  ‘Kate, I need to talk to you.’

  She forced a swallow. This was it.

  ‘Yes?’ The only comfort she could draw was that Naomi looked similarly ill at ease, wringing her hands as was her habit when something was troubling her.

  ‘Unfortunately, I cannot wind back time.’

  ‘No.’ If only.

  ‘What happened cannot be undone.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But apologies can be rendered.’

  Apologies? Naomi wanted her to apologize again? Well, if that was all it was going to take to bring this business to an end and enable her to keep her job…

  ‘I—’

  ‘And so, in the hope that you can bring yourself to forgive me, I apologize, without reservation, for the way I spoke to you.’

  Wait a minute… what?

  ‘I don’t—’

  ‘When you told me what had happened,’ Naomi pressed on. ‘Naturally, I was upset – in shock even – but, as Ned was to point out to me, that was no excuse. Raising my voice to you was wrong. Wholly inexcusable.’

  Unable to stop shaking, and wondering whether to trust her hearing, Kate pressed her hands upon the edge of the kitchen table. Naomi was apologizing? She was off the hook? Thrown by the possibility, she found herself unable to reply. ‘Well…’

  ‘No, please don’t say that it doesn’t matter. It matters greatly. I behaved in the manner of a… well, to put it plainly, in the manner of my mother.’

  ‘Naomi—’

  ‘No, Kate, please don’t say that it’s all right. It’s not all right. It was wrong. I was wrong. Utterly. And all I can do now is repeat my apology and trust that you will accept it.’

  Warily, she raised her eyes to Naomi’s face. She did look truly remorseful. But dare she hope that this was to be the end of it – that she wasn’t still going to be dismissed anyway? There seemed only one way to find out. ‘I do accept it. Thank you.’ And then, steeling herself, she said, ‘So…’

  Naomi, though, seemed to have more to say. ‘No matter the shock I felt in that moment, I should not have accused you of neglect.’

  Overwhelmed by a mixture of regret and relief, Kate exhaled heavily. ‘I wouldn’t ever neglect Esme—’

  ‘I know you wouldn’t.’

  ‘—and you should know that I’m truly sorry about what I let happen to her.’ And it was the truth; while she still didn’t think she had been wholly responsible, she was filled with remorse. ‘I just had so much to think about all at once that I—’

  ‘I know,’ Naomi interrupted her to say. Then, heaving a sigh of her own, and rounding the end of the table, she went on, ‘Things do seem to have rather overwhelmed us, don’t they? Things with regard to Ned, I mean. Every day, you toil away down here, unaided and unseen, such that I failed to notice just how much I was expecting of you. Once Ned arrived, I naïvely assumed that having a full-time nurse would be all that was required – what with that and Papa’s allowance for the additional costs. But I see now just how much more there is to it. And how all of it has fallen upon you. And for that, I am truly sorry.’ Slowly, Kate once again raised her eyes to meet Naomi’s. ‘And that’s why I went to see Papa. You see, yesterday, Ned made a suggestion. But, because it involved asking Papa for help, I’m afraid to say that I rather summarily dismissed it.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Making a little scoffing noise, Naomi gestured airily. ‘No married woman wants to ask her father for help, particularly not where money is involved. But, later, reflecting back upon Ned’s suggestion, it occurred to me that I wouldn’t be requesting assistance for myself, but for him. And, perhaps even more importantly, for you. Anyway, the long and the short of it is that Papa has kindly agreed to pay for domestic help of some sort – whatever we need until Ned is fully recovered. And I have accepted his offer.’

  Having been holding her breath, Kate reached to the edge of the sink. That was what the visit from that woman had been about – getting her some help? Had she really spent the entire day, sick with guilt, all het up and fearing the worst – for nothing?

  ‘So, you mean—’

  ‘I even met with someone from the domestic agency on the High Street,’ Naomi continued. ‘The proprietress came here. You may well have seen her. Anyway, apparently, these days, staff are hard to come by. But she has gone away to see what she can do. Although, only now that I’m telling you this does it occur to me that perhaps it’s not for me to determine what sort of help we need – that you need. No, I rather think that should be for you to decide.’

  The sudden coursing of relief through her body made Kate feel faint. Against all the odds, it seemed that she was safe. She was not about to lose her job. She had simply misunderstood what Naomi had been up to. And the realization was making her feel giddy with relief.

  ‘I thought you
were going to replace me,’ she whispered, surprised by a desire to giggle.

  Wide-eyed, Naomi stared back at her. ‘What?’

  ‘I thought you were so cross with me about Esme that you were going to give me my marching orders.’ Her confession out in the open, she was surprised to find herself starting to cry.

  ‘Oh, my dear Kate,’ Naomi said, rushing to embrace her. ‘You couldn’t be more wrong!’

  Despite feeling Naomi’s arms fold about her, Kate could do nothing to stop her tears. It was as though with each gasping sob, all the horror of the last few days was flooding from her body. ‘I… I…’

  ‘My dear, dear Kate, I can’t believe you would think such a thing.’

  Feeling suddenly foolish, she fished about in her pocket for a handkerchief and blew her nose. Oddly, she couldn’t believe it now, either. Now it just felt as though, in her own way, she had been as quick to judge as Naomi had. ‘I thought it because… well, no, it don’t matter.’ And it didn’t any more, either.

  By her side, Naomi shook her head. ‘I could never dismiss you. This is your home. Not only that but I depend upon you far too much to be without you. Added to which, if you left, neither Ned nor Esme would ever forgive me. Nor Lawrence. Quite simply, without you, we would all fall apart. You are, well, to us, you are irreplaceable.’

  Mortified by her own stupidity, and anxious now to change the subject, Kate dabbed her handkerchief at her eyes. She would say no more of it. She would forget all about it – attribute it to her general tiredness.

  ‘So… so what do you propose for this help, then?’ she asked, deciding that looking forward might be the best way to put the whole sorry affair behind her. ‘What sort of person do you have in mind to take on?’

  When Naomi moved to join her leaning against the edge of the sink, she, too, seemed to soften with relief. ‘Well, what would be of greatest help to you – a kitchen maid? A cook? A parlour maid for odds and ends? You tell me what would be of greatest benefit to you, and I will go back to the agency and see whether they have anyone to suit.’