Page 16 of Mirrors of the Past

Chapter Six

1911

‘El, I am entirely disappointed in you,’ said Laurie, once Viola had — thank God — left the room, and it was just the four of them. Marigold was quite settled on his lap, a warm, soft weight, not unlike Biscuit the dog back at Pencradoc.

Biscuit was Elsie’s dog. She’d had him since she was around eight years old, which now made him the grand old age of sixteen, but he showed no signs of shuffling off his mortal coil any time soon. Since Elsie had left for London, he showed no particular loyalty to any of the Teagues, but seemed to love everyone equally.

Biscuit would quite happily seek affection from whomsoever was close by, although Medora was, Laurie knew, of the opinion that she was the most favoured soul in the house now. The truth was, that if Elsie walked back in the door, Biscuit would launch himself at her as if he was a puppy again, and had even good-naturedly accepted Marigold and her well-meaning, babyish tweaks and pulls to his ears on her visits.

Laurie felt somehow disloyal likening his toddler niece to the family’s ancient dog, but the weight was the same in his lap and he felt himself patting Marigold’s back even as she snuggled in today. Her breathing grew shallow and her weight seemed to increase and he knew the child was asleep — which also meant he was trapped here a little longer so, again thank God, he was pleased the hideous Viola Arthur had flounced out.

‘Well, please excuse me,’ said Louis cheerfully, and tiptoed out, saying something about having work to do for his father’s estate and how he was dreadfully sorry but it simply couldn’t wait. Privately, Laurie thought Louis was heading into his study to lock his door and have forty winks after playing pirates so furiously with his daughter. There was a nanny or a nursemaid or something, he knew, but it was clearly her day off. Or maybe her week off — who knew? But Marigold was certainly making the most of having her father around. It was good for them both.

‘Why ever are you disappointed in me?’ Elsie’s eyes were wide and far too innocent. ‘I was entertaining a friend — you turned up. Is it my fault,’ she asked, spreading her arms wide and dramatically, ‘that there is clearly a frisson between you two, and you have yet to notice it yourselves?’

‘There is no frisson. Viola is an awful person — she’s loud and outspoken and jumps to conclusions. I swear she thought I’d made her fall over on purpose.’

‘Darling, it’s fate. That’s what it is.’ Elsie shrugged, unconcerned. ‘Now, on to other things.’ She rummaged around on one of the tables, moving a paintbrush or two, sorting out some mail, discarding the sketch she’d been working on, and finally finding the letter she was after. ‘Look.’ She handed it to Laurie. ‘It’s from Pearl. We’ve decided we’re having a Halloween party for the little ones. Delightful, yes?’ She swooped down and gently scooped Marigold off Laurie’s knee, cuddling her close and kissing her hair the way Louis had kissed hers earlier.

Laurie unfolded the letter properly and read it. Some words jumped out at him that made him cringe inwardly: I’m desperately hopingViola will still be here for Halloween. Yes, I agree, let’s show the little ones how we do Halloween properly. I am happy to host it here, but I know how keen you are for that little poppet to spend time at Pencradoc — and to hell with all that snobbery. American Aunt Pearl and Aunt Viola will make sure Marigold is as merry as a grig when she sees our jack o’ lanterns!

‘Well, I am sure that Pearl is the only one who is desperate for Viola to be here,’ he said. ‘And please can you translate it for me?’

Elsie rolled her eyes heavenwards. ‘You know what it means. Don’t be awkward.’

But Laurie was feeling in an awkward sort of mood. He obviously wanted to be part of the Halloween celebrations — he loved a good ghost story as much as the next person and there was always an eerie magic about the night at Pencradoc. However, he also knew that Aunt Pearl would not do anything by halves.

‘And will Holly and Noel be involved as well?’ he asked, resigned to the fact that the “little ones” would also include the “littlest one”, as in Holly and Noel’s newborn, Joe.

‘Of course. It will be wunnerful, Laurie. I promise.’ She grinned, deliberately using one of the words her friend was famous for saying.

‘There will be small people overrunning the place,’ he said grumpily. He wasn’t really grumpy, to be honest. He was just irritated that Viola might appear again. He hoped she’d have had enough of England’s autumnal weather by then, and disappear back to New York. Or turn tail and head to Paris, and go back to that poor sop who apparently adored her.

Vile.

Oh. Actually . . .

‘El, do you think we can call her Vile-ola?’

‘Laurie! No! Of course you can’t! And please — not in front of Marigold!’ She pulled the little girl closer into her black lacy bodice and cupped her hand around the ear that was exposed, just in case the sleeping child heard anything. ‘You’re more of a child than she is at times! Dreadful boy.’

Oh, well. She might be correct. “You can’t win ’em all”, as he was sure Viola would say.

It was just — wunnerful — that they might be thrown together again at Halloween . . .

Not.

‘Oh — something over there for you on the table,’ said Elsie, nodding to where she’d left her most recent sketch. ‘Top one.’

Laurie got up and went over. He picked up the top paper, and, to his horror, saw a charcoal sketch of Viola. It was definitely her — the attitude, the turn of her head, everything.

‘Elsie! What the h . . .’ He cast a glance at Marigold. ‘Heck is this?’

‘It’s a gift from me to you. No! No need to thank me. Fresh off the page.’ She held her hand up and closed her eyes. ‘You must promise me you’ll take it home with you and not to destroy it. Not yet, anyway. Please keep it for a while. Then, after a few months, perhaps when — or if — she goes back to America, you can decide what to do with it.’ She opened her eyes and glared at him. ‘Best Sibling Promise.’

A “Best Sibling Promise” was something they’d done as children, when they’d been up to mischief together. It was an unbreakable bond, always had been, always would be.

‘Elsie Pencradoc. You are not the best sibling, you are the worst sibling.’ Laurie was furious. But Elsie’s gaze remained fixed on him. His mouth worked for a moment, then he rolled his eyes heavenwards and whipped the picture off the desk. ‘You have me over a barrel. I will do as you ask, but I am not happy about it.’