Act of Will. Barbara Taylor Bradford
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Irène Bell exclaimed, ‘Do, but do, try one of Cook’s hot Cornish pasties, Miss Kenton. They’re delicious. And quite renowned hereabouts.’
Thank you.’ Audra placed the cup of steamy, frothing chocolate on the antique mahogany table next to the sofa, put one of the meat turnovers on a plate and returned to her place.
Taking a sip of chocolate, Mrs Bell continued, ‘As I was about to say when Cora came in, your wages would be sixty pounds a year. This is an increase of ten pounds above what I paid the last nanny. Matron Lennox said it would not be fair of me to offer you anything less than sixty pounds. In view of your superior training at the hospital.’ Irene Bell now leaned forward intently. ‘Well, Miss Kenton, are you interested in taking the position, do you think?’ A perfect, pencilled brow lifted eloquently.
Audra was both startled and delighted at the amount of money she would be paid. She said, ‘I am interested, Mrs Bell, very much so. However, I would like to meet your little boy before I finally say yes.’ Audra gave her a forthright look, and her sudden smile was one of sweetness and sincerity. ‘I’m quite positive I will like him, but I do want to be sure he likes me.’
‘What a lovely sentiment, Miss Kenton. And I’m over-joyed, simply overjoyed, that you’re going to join our little family.’ Irène Bell’s face, always mobile and expressive, now filled with a mixture of relief and pleasure. Her merry laugh echoed around the room. ‘I know the baby will take to you. How could he not? He’s having his afternoon nap at the moment, but you shall meet him later. And before you leave I shall show you around Calpher House. And introduce you to the staff.’
The motor car slid to a standstill in front of the General Post Office in City Square.
A moment later the uniformed chauffeur was opening the rear door and helping Audra to alight. ‘Thank you so much, Robertson,’ she said, giving him an appreciative little smile.
‘It’s a pleasure, Miss. Good afternoon, Miss.’ He touched the neb of his peaked cap and hurried back to the driver’s seat.
Audra swung around and took a step towards Gwen, who was standing near the steps of the Post Office where they had arranged to meet.
Gwen’s eyes were out on stalks. Instantly recovering herself, she rushed forward to meet Audra. Grasping hold of her hands, she cried in a shrill, excited voice, ‘Well, aren’t we posh then! Rolling up in a fancy motor car. Imagine that!’
Audra could not help laughing at Gwen’s incredulity. Then she explained, ‘Mrs Bell kept me at Calpher House rather longer than I expected. I started to get a little nervous in the end. I didn’t want to be late, to have you standing waiting outside in the cold. So she sent me in the car.’
‘That was nice of her!’ Gwen exclaimed, obviously impressed not only by the car but by Mrs Bell as well. She peered into Audra’s face, and demanded, ‘Well, did you take the job then?’
‘Yes, Gwen, I did.’
‘Oh, lovey, I am glad!’ Gwen threw her arms around Audra, hugged her tightly. Audra hugged her back and the two of them clung to each other, did a happy little jig, and then began to laugh uproariously.
Their frivolity was interrupted by a masculine voice, which said, ‘They’ll be sending the wagon for you two next, the way you’re carrying on like a couple of lunatics, and in the middle of City Square, no less.’
‘Oh hello, Charlie,’ Gwen said, pulling away from Audra, looking up at her brother, who stood with his hands in his pockets, towering over them both, surveying them through amused eyes. ‘You’re right on time, I see.’
‘Aren’t I always?’ Charles Thornton grinned at his sister, then gave Audra a shy smile. ‘Hello, Audra,’ he said, unable to keep the look of adoration off his face. He thrust his hand at her.
Audra’s heart sank at the sight of Charlie, whom she had not expected to join them for the evening, as he no doubt had. She had wanted to be alone with Gwen. They hadn’t seen each other for several weeks and they had a number of things to talk about, especially now that she had taken the job with the Bells.
‘Hello,’ Audra responded in her quiet way, taking his hand, glad she was wearing her gloves. Charlie always had such clammy hands, even in the cold weather. Audra found this unfortunate physical trait dismaying and distasteful. She liked Charlie well enough as a person but she had no wish to have him as her boyfriend. This was Gwen’s hope though, and she was forever pushing Charlie at her. Audra fervently wished she would stop doing it. Charlie Thornton was not her type at all. It was not that he was unattractive, because he wasn’t. He was tall, well built, with broad shoulders, very masculine really, although Audra suspected he would become flabby as he grew older. He had blond hair, a fair complexion and friendly grey eyes. His face, like his personality, was bland. Audra could not help thinking that he was soppy in certain ways, and most of the time she found him dreadfully dull. She supposed he was a good person, very worthy, and yet instinctively she knew he was a weak man.
Gwen volunteered, ‘Charlie’s taking us to the pictures later, Audra. He’s treating us. We’re going to the Rialto in Briggate to see the new Mary Pickford picture. Isn’t that nice of him?’
‘Oh yes it is,’ Audra was quick to agree and forced a smile.
Taking charge as usual, Gwen rushed on, ‘Well, don’t let’s stand here like three sucking ducks gawping at each other. We’ve an hour to waste before we go to the pictures, so let’s toddle along to Betty’s and have a nice cup of tea.’
Audra and Charlie readily agreed.
It had turned even chillier and the snow that had threatened throughout the day began to fall in small fluttering flakes, settling on the ground. The light was being squeezed out of the lowering sky as dusk descended rapidly. Charlie took hold of the girls’ arms and hurried them across City Square in the direction of Commercial Street where the café was located. As they turned into the street they all three stopped abruptly, staring into the windows of Harte’s department store, captivated by what they saw. The windows had been dressed for Christmas and they were dazzling in the gathering twilight, filled with twinkling coloured lights and glittering scenes depicting different fairy tales. One window was devoted to Cinderella, showed her arriving at the ball in her shimmering glass coach, another to Hansel and Gretel, who stood outside the gingerbread house, and yet a third paid tribute to The Snow Queen in all her icy glory.
‘How beautiful they are,’ Audra murmured, lingering a moment longer than the other two, thinking of High Cleugh and the glorious Christmases of her childhood.
‘Yes, aren’t they just,’ Gwen said, tugging at her. ‘Come on, lovey, the snow’s really coming down now. We’re going to be soaked before we know it.’
Gwen tucked her arm through Audra’s and kept up a continual stream of conversation as they walked down Commercial Street, living up to her reputation as a chatterbox. Charlie, trudging along on the other side of Audra, interjected a few comments, but Audra remained silent – and reflective.
She was suddenly feeling mean and uncharitable for having had such unkind thoughts about Charlie, who was harmless really, and meant well. All of the Thorntons meant well, and they had all been very good to her. Mrs Thornton was forever telling her to consider The Meadow her home, and she had even turned the little box room at the end of the second-floor landing into a bedroom for her. Mrs Thornton had insisted she keep a few clothes there, and when she had visited Gwen in November she had left behind some toilet articles and a nightgown, which she would be able to use tonight.
Next week she was coming back to Horsforth to spend Christmas with Gwen, and she was well aware that the Thorntons would make her feel like a part of the family, truly one of them, as they always did. They had such a wealth of generosity and kindness in them. And I’m very ungrateful, Audra chastised herself. She knew how much it would please Gwen if she were nice to Charlie, and so she resolved to be pleasant to him, but without leading him on, giving him the wrong impression. He must not misunderstand.