Last Voyage of the Valentina(123)

“How did he meet Margo?”

“It was raining the day your father returned. He had wired us in advance but of course we knew nothing of what had happened to Valentina. We didn’t expect a small baby. He arrived on the steps, the raindrops bouncing off his hat, with you in his arms, wrapped in a dreadfully inadequate blanket. I took you and we sat by the fire. You were very tiny and vulnerable. You didn’t look a bit like Tommy, except for your eyes. I loved you then as if you were my own. We talked long into the night, your grandfather, Tommy, and I. He told us everything. He showed us the picture he had drawn. She was a beautiful girl, Valentina. The secretive look in that barely perceptible smile. Tommy didn’t see it, neither did Hubert, but I did. I wouldn’t have trusted her as far as I could throw her, but I wasn’t there to warn him. Men are so gullible when faced with such beauty. We resolved then not to tell anyone that the marriage had never happened, for your sake. There’s a nasty word for children born out of wedlock and we didn’t want you to live with the shame of it. Things were different in those days. Tommy bought the bloody boat he had served on, the MTB, can’t remember the number. He spent a small fortune converting it into a houseboat. He would spend the weeks in London working, coming down at the weekend to be with you.” Lavender’s face glowed with pride. “I had you to myself and I looked after you as if you were mine.”

“So the Valentina was his MTB?” said Alba in amazement.

“He was obsessed with it. I felt I had lost him too. But I had you.” She turned to Alba and her eyes glistened with tears. “You were my baby. Then Margo came along.”

“How did they meet?” she asked again.

Lavender took a breath. “Tommy was invited hunting in Gloucestershire and she was part of the house party. I don’t think he fell in love. She was capable, funny, down to earth, and genuine. He wanted to get married. He wanted a mother for you.” Her face grew taut. “She made a good wife too. Tommy was hopeless. He couldn’t even wash his own shirt. The houseboat was a mess. I went once but never again. He led a decadent life. Had more than his fair share of girlfriends. He knew he needed to settle down. Margo swept into his life and put it in order. She was terrific with you, I give her that. They moved into the Dower House and started their own family. At first she brought you over to see me every day. You almost lived here at Beechfield as a little girl and we were very, very close.” She smiled again. “You used to like playing hunt the thimble. You’d play it for hours and I read those Alison Uttley Grey Rabbit books over and over again. You adored Hare. ‘A saw to saw things,’ do you remember? No, I don’t suppose you remember much of that time. You were little. But you loved me. Then Caroline came along and Miranda, then Henry, and little by little, you were swallowed up into Margo’s family. You weren’t mine any longer.”

“But Grandma, you never recognized me!” said Alba.

Lavender tutted loudly. “Of course I recognized you, dear. I was only riling Margo. I never meant to hurt you in the process. I was just bitter that I was pushed aside when you were like a daughter to me. The daughter I never had. Forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive, Grandma,” said Alba, reaching out to touch her. “I haven’t exactly been the easiest person to be around, either. I’ve been horrid to Margo too.”

“So have I,” said Lavender guiltily. “But she’s been a good mother to you and she was good to Tommy. She picked him up and put him together. Took on his child and nursed his heart. She even put up with that silly boat he refused to get rid of. She’s a strong woman, Alba. She’s had to put up with a lot.”

“I wondered why that picture was under the bed,” she murmured. “It all makes sense now. No wonder Margo never visited me there. She hates the boat for good reason.”

“Well, you won’t want to live there now you’re marrying Fitz.”

“I want to live in the country,” she said.

Lavender’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you can live in the Dower House. It’s only rented out.”

“That’s a brilliant idea!”

“After Hubert died, I was very happy there.”

“I’d like to spend time with Daddy. I’ve been horrid to him too.”

“Well, he’s had a hard time. That, combined with the fact that you looked so like your mother. There was no escaping her. Then, as you grew older, he was always debating whether or not to tell you. It was a terrible burden.”

“I wrote him a letter from Italy when I found out,” she said brightly.