Zoë and Iris almost sprang from their chairs, then turned, not really knowing what to do. It was Iris who asked, ‘Do you want to be left alone, Mum?’
‘Yes please, if you don’t mind, love.’ Eleonora watched as her daughter and grand-daughter hesitated then wordlessly left the room, closing the door firmly behind them.
She listened. The front door that stuck in the winter and banged shut in the summer was opened. The wind chimes always gave visitors away. The door shut. Voices, words muttered and too many all at once to decipher and then…
Eleonora’s heart was putting in an extra shift already so when the door to the lounge slowly opened and a shaft of bright light illuminated the figure who stood, half in half out, it almost went on strike.
Neither of them said a word and she was aware of him stepping forward and the door being pulled closed behind him and all of a sudden he was there. She tried to stand but her legs had stopped doing that a long time ago, so instead she reached out and waited.
When their hands touched and he fell to his knees, she could see his face covered in tears which she wiped away, ‘Shush now, don’t cry, it’s going to be alright, son. It’s going to be alright.’
His shoulders heaved and he could barely speak but managed, ‘I always knew, I always knew…’
And when he couldn’t speak another word and fell against her chest, Eleonora wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. She’d heard his voice at last. And had touched his skin and seen his face again. No more imagining. No more what ifs.
Closing her eyes, they were back there once more. Just the two of them in a bombed-out hospital room covered in the dust of time. He was swaddled in a blanket and lay safe by her side. But this time things would be different. Eleonora would stay awake and guard him with every ounce of love and life that she had left, for however long that was.
Her baby, her little boy, the teenager who’d grown into a man had stepped out of her imagination and into her arms. Ernie had come home.
CHAPTER56
CLARISSA
As always, Jennifer had taken control of the arrangements for Christmas and was giving Chuck very detailed instructions as to where she wanted the tree. And as was his way, he’d good-naturedly acquiesced to her every whim, even though she’d changed her mind twice already and was currently dithering over the alcove or by the window.
Thank heavens Matheson had trees sent up each year and Jennifer didn’t have to choose herself, or they’d still be waiting on Christmas Eve. This made Clarissa chuckle, as did hearing Jennifer announce that the tree was definitely a bit on the wonky side.
Clarissa was busy sorting through the mail, a job usually undertaken by Jennifer, but seeing as she was occupied, she’d insisted on doing it herself, wanting nothing to do with trees or decorations or what they’d eat for dinner on the twenty-fifth.
It was bad enough that November was marred by another date in the calendar, her sister’s birthday. One of those days you creep towards, like a snarling dog, and then after you’ve skirted around it, you run away as fast as you can, hoping it won’t bite you on the bottom.
From the moment her eyes opened on November 23rd, Clarissa thought of Eleonora constantly. It had become a tradition that at the end of the day, before bed, she would leave two glasses of champagne in front of her sister’s portrait and there she would drink a toast to Eleonora. And as her eyes closed on the day, like a child on Christmas Eve, Clarissa still courted a fantasy. Ridiculous really. Because just like she’d marvelled at the disappearance of a carrot and a mince pie left in front the fire for Santa, Clarissa had longed to find Eleonora’s glass of champagne empty the next morning. A sign that never came.
Once November was over, the inevitable had to be dealt with: Christmas. She’d always found it to be such a disunion. On the one hand she respected those with faith who sought comfort in ritual and those without, who just wanted to have a jolly good time and a rest. Then on the other, it just reminded her of Eleonora and their last ever Christmas Day.
It had been wonderful, even though the country had been plunged into war, they’d been together as a family and she’d adored them, faults and all. The following Christmas was the worst ever because Eleonora was overseas and her mother stayed in bed for almost all of the festivities, if you could call them that.
Feeling herself being lulled by maudlin thoughts, Clarissa focused on her mail and sorted the junk mail from anything addressed to Jennifer, and then a pile for herself.
She would open the cards later and yes, of course she would hope for one with a red candle surrounded by ivy, but was brought up short and diverted from silly wishes by the envelope in her hands. She was just about to remark, then thought better of it, then further distracted by the phone in the hall ringing.
‘I’ll get it,’ said Jennifer who shot from the room leaving Chuck underneath the tree tightening the screws on the stand and making huffing noises.
As she slid the envelope between the pile of Christmas cards, Clarissa strained her ears for clues as to who had rung the house phone. It was a rare occurrence these days because her friends were still savvy enough to operate mobile phones, as was she. The only person that had insisted on using the landline was Mr Henderson Senior, but that wouldn’t happen anytime soon. Not now she’d sacked the lot of them!
Clarissa tutted and shook her head when she remembered the most awful scene that followed her ejection of Tristan Henderson from Chamberlain. Not only had the dreadful man been plotting to sell off her estate to some shady business associate, he’d gone doo-lally and tore across the bottom meadow, scaring the poor sheep to death, before ploughing into the little stone folly that had stood there for hundreds of years.
They’d been alerted by Yosef the gardener, who’d seen it all. So while Chuck and Jennifer raced down there, Clarissa had called the emergency services. By all accounts, even though he was squashed inside the crumpled car, Tristan’s language when he saw Chuck was ripe. And the demeaning and cruel names he called the poor man had enraged Clarissa far more than the destruction of her folly. She was still livid about that, the hooligan!
Once the firefighters had freed Tristan from the wreckage of his car, they carted him off to hospital, but as soon as he’d been given the all-clear she’d pressed charges. He was due up in court soon for trespass and criminal damage. Served him right, the lunatic.
What got her goat the most was that he’d been manipulating Chuck all along for his own ends and it had made her so sad, that such a gentle soul had to listen to such derogatory and uncalled-for comments from someone who regarded themselves as well educated and a gentleman. Pah, Tristan Henderson was nothing of the sort and word had it that he’d fallen from grace at home and at the office.
So it couldn’t possibly be one of that lot on the phone talking to Jennifer. No matter, all would be revealed soon, she expected. Her attention was then drawn to Chuck who was reverse-wiggling from under the tree. She was so glad he’d agreed to stay on until the new year because Chamberlain just wouldn’t be the same without him.
She was due to meet with her new firm of solicitors the following week, once they’d received all the files pertaining to the estate from the scurrilous Henderson and Son. Yes, she did see Jennifer and Chuck’s point that it wasn’t old Henderson’s fault his son was an utter scoundrel, but she simply couldn’t take the risk. If for whatever reason Tristan did take the reins, it would be tantamount to her father passing Chamberlain into the care of Oscar. And that was never going to happen.
Seeing Chuck and his spanner on approach, Clarissa scooped up the pile of mail belonging to her and placed it inside the box file on the table for later, and everything else of top of that. He flopped into the armchair opposite. ‘That woman is a slavedriver!’
