Protected.
Andrew’s doing.
On the dot of ten Elinor presented herself to Andrew’s secretary, who received the keys without comment and gave her a letter from him that she’d just finished typing.
It began ‘Dear Mrs Landers’ and informed her, politely and formally, that all arrangements were in place and a cab had been arranged to take her to the house. Mr Martin understood about Hetta and she would arrive to find the place already warm. Her salary would be paid directly into her bank, if she would kindly give the details to his secretary. A set of keys was enclosed, he wished her well, etc. etc.
Going to the ward, she found the day staff there, under the charge of Nurse Edwards, a cheerful figure whom Hetta liked.
‘All ready to go?’ she said, smiling. ‘I gather you’re going to be a housekeeper at a nice place on the edge of town.’
‘Aren’t we going back to Daisy’s?’ Hetta asked.
‘No, darling. They had a fire yesterday.’
‘Mr Jenson,’ Hetta said at once, in her wise old lady voice. ‘Smoking in bed again. Poor Daisy. What will she do?’
‘She’s got a room nearby, and the insurance will take care of the rebuilding,’ Elinor explained. ‘And we’re going to look after this man’s house for him.’
‘Why don’t you let the nurse finish dressing Hetta while I give you her medication?’ Nurse Edwards suggested.
It was like a dream to be getting ready to leave. Only a short time ago her skies had been dark. Now she had hope again, and it was thanks to one person.
‘I think I’d better find Andrew and say thank you,’ Elinor said.
‘I’ve said my “thank yous”,’ Hetta explained. ‘He came earlier. He said he was sorry he couldn’t see you, but he was operating this morning, and would be busy all day.’
So that was that. He’d taken every chance to ensure he didn’t meet her again before she left. And perhaps, on the whole, it was best.
As promised, the cab was waiting for her, and in a few minutes they were gliding away from the hospital. Then the suburbs began to fall away and they were in the country. The houses grew further apart, more luxurious, and she realised that she was in a moneyed district, where the buildings weren’t houses at all, but ‘residences’, with drives, and wrought-iron gates.
At last the car turned into a gate more decorative than the others. She just had time to observe the sign reading ‘Oaks’ before they began the journey up a winding drive, thickly lined with trees. Then the trees parted without warning, giving her a sudden view of the mansion.
It was awesome. She’d expected a rich man’s residence, but this had a style and luxury that trumpeted a message to the world. No wonder Mr Martin, whoever he was, didn’t care to leave the place empty.
The cab driver waited while she opened the front door and carried her bags in for her, but waved away her money.
‘Already paid, ma’am,’ he said. ‘Including the tip.’
Then they were alone, looking around and around in awe.
‘Goodness, Mummy!’ Hetta exclaimed. ‘It’s like a film set.’
‘It is, isn’t it?’
‘Is it real?’
‘I don’t think it can be.’
They explored together, first the kitchen, a blue and white masterpiece of luxury and modern equipment.
‘It’s a bit over-the-top for egg and chips,’ was Hetta’s down-to-earth comment. This was her favourite dish.
‘I rather think it was designed for cordon bleu,’ Elinor mused.
‘But you could do egg and chips?’ Hetta asked anxiously.
‘For an army, darling.’
The huge refrigerator was stocked to the roof: eggs, rashers, sausages, vegetables, milk and six different fruit juices. The freezer was likewise packed.
In stunned silence they climbed the broad curved stairway to the realms above, where the corridor branched into two corridors, each covered in thick cream carpet. In one direction every door was locked, but in the other they found two unlocked doors. Opening the first they found a large corner bedroom, with windows on two sides, and a modern four-poster bed, hung with white lace.
‘You could really be a film star in that,’ Hetta breathed.
They found her room opposite, also large, but more down-to-earth. The bed was covered with a duvet depicting wildlife, which delighted Hetta. A study of the bookshelves produced more about wildlife, especially elephants, which pleased her even more. But even as she eagerly scanned the books Elinor saw her eyes begin to droop. She still had a long way to go before complete recovery, and the short journey had taken it out of her.
‘Time for your nap, darling,’ she said.
‘Can I have something to eat first?’
Elinor dropped to one knee to look Hetta in the eyes. ‘Of course you can,’ she said. ‘Of course you can,’ she repeated, gathering the little girl against her in a passion of tenderness.
But Hetta was already nodding off in her arms. Elinor lifted her up.
‘You can have anything you want,’ she whispered, laying her on the bed and propping her up in a half-sitting position, as the hospital had advised until the wound in her chest had finished healing. ‘Anything,’ she repeated, pulling the duvet up to her chin, ‘just as soon as you wake up.’
She slipped briefly downstairs to collect the bags, and unpacked them with her own and Hetta’s doors open, in case the child should awaken and be alarmed at the strange surroundings. But she was deeply asleep. Even when Elinor dropped a heavy bag on the floor with a clatter Hetta did no more than sigh happily.
After watching her for a moment Elinor crept out and went on a tour of the house. As Andrew had explained, most of the doors were locked, which was a relief. Evidently her duties would be confined to their rooms upstairs, the kitchen, and the large living room equipped with satellite television and tuned into every conceivable station.
Hetta slept the afternoon away before awakening with an appetite. Elinor whipped her up an omelette and found some ice cream in the freezer. After that they spent a couple of contented hours exploring children’s channels on the sofa, until Hetta dropped off again in her mother’s arms.
This time, when she’d put her to bed, Elinor looked around the room and saw that here too was a small television with satellite channels. It was a child’s room, as the decor made clear: a boy, she judged, from the cowboys on the wallpaper, and one who was denied nothing.
They had joked about film stars, but it wasn’t a joke at all, really. The lace-hung four-poster was big enough to sleep six, and the private bathroom that led off from it was like a Hollywood fantasy, with a circular bath sunk into the floor, its elegant cream colour adorned by a jigsaw pattern all the way around the edge. All accessories were gold-plated, even-Elinor was amused to note-the toilet-roll holder. The soap dish held a new cake of cream soap, so heavily scented that she had to sit down after one sniff.
Before going to bed she tried the shower, and discovered that the water came out with real force and maintained its temperature. That was true luxury, she thought, drying off with one of the thick cream towels, and thinking of Daisy’s shower attachment, which had to be tied onto the taps and always came off, no matter how tightly you fixed it.
She checked Hetta once more, before snuggling down blissfully in the soft white sheets of the big bed. She’d left both bedroom doors open again, with a light on in the hall between them, so that Hetta could be immediately reassured should she awaken. And in the middle of the night she heard the soft patter of feet and felt someone climb in beside her.
As they drifted off to sleep she wondered if she’d gone to heaven, for that was the only way to explain how her troubles had been swept away and replaced by this perfect peace and serenity. That was the stuff of fairy tales, not real life.
