Just after 8 o’clock the door opened and Johnny – with Lexi close behind him – returned with the rents. Lexi wanted to turn and run. She hadn’t expected to see Mr McCann sitting at the kitchen table. Johnny put the large bag down in front of his father.
‘It’s all there, Dad,’ he said. ‘Everyone answers the door – especially when they see Lexi there as well,’ he added, smiling.
‘Oh?’ Reynard cleared his throat. ‘Does Miss Martin usually go with you?’
‘Nearly always,’ Johnny said cheerfully. ‘We can do it quicker when two of us are knocking on doors – and tenants seem to like talking to Lexi.’
‘Um, well, good,’ Reynard said. ‘I’d like an hour with you now, in the study, Johnny, to go through a few things.’ But Johnny shook his head briefly.
‘Will tomorrow do instead, Dad?’ he said. ‘Lexi and I thought we’d go to the café for an orange squash when we’d done the rounds.’
Reynard shrugged, though he was disappointed. He’d have liked Johnny’s company tonight, but what could he say? The boy had been at school all day, had collected all the rents … ‘Yes, of course. Tomorrow will do,’ Reynard said, standing up with his bag of cash.
Presently, upstairs in his study, Reynard went over to the window and stared out moodily, unable to rid himself of a sense of impending doom. It wasn’t business – business was still good although who knew for how long if all the signs were to be believed? And there were more than just signs now.
Soon, in order to defend Belgium and France, Britain would be at war with Germany.
Reynard always kept himself abreast of the times, kept himself aware of significant changes in other parts of the world. It was no secret that Germany had been building great war ships, forcing Britain to respond by building her own, the latest being the King George V, alongside The Conqueror and The Iron Duke. Worse, the last time Reynard had gone to London he’d seen artillery batteries at the mouth of the Thames.
And it wasn’t just that. The whole world was aware of Germany’s great Zeppelin airships, which they would use with no hesitation whatsoever. And people in the know said that Winston Churchill, the First Lord of the Admiralty, a man apparently hungry for war, was keen to arm aeroplanes in response. Reynard clenched and unclenched his hands. Aerial warfare? Unthinkable, surely!
Feeling more troubled than ever, Reynard flopped down in his chair. Thinking of war and all its implications gave him a bad taste in the mouth. As had his last meeting with his stockbroker who’d told Reynard that the Germans had apparently called in all their overseas loans, and that it was inevitable that once war was declared the stock market would go haywire, with disastrous effects on shares.
Yet even that fact didn’t seem as terrible as the one troubling Reynard the most … Alfred’s belligerent assertion, last time he’d been home, that he would have no hesitation in volunteering for service.
Reynard stood up, pushing his chair back, and pursed his lips. He would be doing everything in his power to persuade his son against the follies of war. There was going to be very serious discussion about this before Alfred did something he would undoubtedly regret for the rest of his life.
It was the 30th of April, Johnny’s sixteenth birthday, and he was coming to the cottage at 4 o’clock for a little birthday tea and to receive his presents from the Martins. They’d bought him a chess set, some bead puzzles, sweets and chocolate.
‘I think it’s really sad, Mama, that they don’t have a party at Grey Gables and invite all Johnny’s friends,’ Lexi said, as she tied a piece of string around the parcel she’d just wrapped up. ‘Johnny says his dad is always too busy for that kind of thing – and anyway he doesn’t like strangers in the house.’
‘Oh, I’m sure Johnny will have lovely presents,’ Cecilia said. ‘Anna told me yesterday that she’s going to cook something nice for their supper a bit later on.’
‘Yes, but that’s not the same as having friends in to share everything is it?’ Lexi persisted. ‘Alfred’s obviously still at college so it’ll just be Johnny and Anna. Even Mr McCann won’t be there because it’s Thursday and he’s never home on Thursday evenings.’
It was gone 5.30 before they’d finished the birthday tea of meat paste sandwiches, red jelly and a small iced cake Cecilia had made, and now Lexi was going down to Grey Gables so Johnny could show Lexi his other presents.
‘I’ll be back to help get the children to bed, Mama,’ Lexi said as she and Johnny left the cottage.
It was only a five-minute walk to Grey Gables, and with Johnny leading the way, the pair of them went down the steps and around to the back door, letting themselves into the kitchen. Anna was at the table making pastry.
‘So, Johnny – I’m sure you had a lovely birthday tea at Mrs. Martin’s house,’ Anna said. ‘And now I’m making the pigeon pie you said you’d like.’ She glanced at Lexi. ‘Would you like to stay and share it with us, Lexi?’
Although the child was often around the premises with Johnny, Anna only ever invited her to stay when she knew Mr McCann wouldn’t be there. Tonight, the coast was clear because it was Thursday and he wouldn’t be back until very late. In all the years Anna had been living and working here, the pattern had never varied. But – surely on his son’s birthday her employer could have made an exception and stayed to have supper with them? Anyway, thank goodness Johnny loved going to the Martins’ cottage – perhaps Cecilia was the mother he couldn’t remember, and would like to have had – even though Anna Hobbs had tried, with all the love she had, to fill that lonely gap in the little boys’ lives. Tears, familiar tears, sprang to her eyes again. She was about the same age as Cecilia, but why had fate denied her, Anna, the longed-for gift of children? How could she have been abandoned, after all the plans, all the promises?
Twenty-five years earlier
Anna walked quickly along the Euston Road until she came to the British Library, a place well known to her. Her father, a great reader, had taken her there on many Saturday mornings. She’d been young, then, still at school, but encouraged by him, she’d soon learned her way around the building, and how to find any book she might want to look at.
But now, at seventeen, Anna had another mission, a very important one. Completely ignorant about life’s personal matters, she needed to find out about intimacy, specifically between a man and a woman.
Because last night, Leonard had asked her to marry him, and in a delirium of joy and excitement, Anna had said yes. The wedding was not to be for another eighteen months or so, but still – she needed to be prepared.
It was only after the proposal that the first wave of panic had swept over her.
What would happen when she and Leonard were in bed together? What did marriage actually mean? Anna simply had no idea. It was a topic never mentioned when she’d been growing up. Her parents seemed to have been happy together, but had never shown any outward affection for each other. Anna had never seen them kiss, or even hold hands. But they had produced her, hadn’t they, – so how did it happen? What did you have to do?
And, more troublingly, if a baby got in – somehow – how on earth did it get out? Did you have to be cut open?
Reproduction had always been a dark subject, never spoken of – like the monthly curse, another complete mystery. What was that all about? When it had first happened to Anna at the age of twelve, she’d been horrified and slightly ashamed at the sight. Her mother had whispered that she should keep quiet about it, and keep herself clean. She’d then supplied Anna with squares of old