‘Oh, careful with that one, please! It’s rather fragile,’ Amelia cries. Mr Barker clamps his jaw into his moustaches and nods in a surly manner.
‘Darling Amelia! It’s so wonderful to see you! Come here, children, let me look at you,’ Hester calls. She holds the two children at arm’s length: eleven-year-old John, who has sandy hair and a rather pinched-looking face, and is all skin and bone; and eight-year-old Ellie, who is plump and cheerful, with pale grey eyes and a tucked-in chin like a china doll. Her little blue and white sailor dress is tight across a round tummy, and creased from the journey. Just as I would have looked at that age, Hester thinks, with a tug of affection that is almost painful. ‘Goodness me, how you’ve grown! I can scarcely tell it’s you! You’re enormous!’ she exclaims. Ellie smiles but John rolls his eyes a little and looks down, scuffing his feet in embarrassment.
‘John! Don’t make that face! Give your aunt a kiss,’ Amelia instructs him sharply.
‘Oh, there, there.’ Hester crouches down and smiles at them. ‘I’ve never liked forced kisses, only freely given ones. What do you say, John?’ Hester’s nephew leans forwards and kisses her cheek quickly, and Ellie puts out her arms for a hug, which Hester gladly gives her. ‘Run around the garden and stretch your legs, children. Off you go! Come and have some lemonade when you get too hot!’ she calls after them, as they gratefully trot away and are lost amidst the high flower borders and sun-beleaguered shrubs.
‘Oh, thank goodness!’ Amelia sighs, putting down her vanity case and hugging her sister. ‘John has been vile all the way here! It’s not his fault – he’s so disappointed that their father hasn’t come with us …’
‘Yes, where is Archie? Didn’t he mean to come?’
‘He did, until the very last minute. I’m so sorry, Hetty! Typical of him – he had a prior engagement at his club that he hadn’t told me about, and had forgotten about himself. But I am here, and so are the children, and we shall have a wonderful time without him, I’m sure.’ Amelia smiles. She is five years older than Hester, and has a grace and elegance that her younger sister has always envied. Feline cheekbones and a delicate jaw, and the most perfectly blue, almond-shaped eyes. As a débutante, her beauty was the talk of the season, but now there are slight hollows in her cheeks and under her eyes, and her skin has lost the first vibrant glow of her youth.
‘Amy, you look a little tired. Are you quite well?’ Hester asks, solicitously. Amelia’s smile shrinks a little, and to Hester’s shock tears appear in her eyes, sparkling in the sun. ‘Amy! What is it? Whatever’s the matter?’ she demands, grasping her sister’s long-fingered hands.
‘Let’s not talk out here,’ Amelia says, lowering her voice as Cat appears in the hallway behind them. ‘Are we in our usual rooms?’
‘Ah, well … Mr Durrant has taken the room that the children would normally have, I fear … I thought it impolite to uproot him, since he has been with us so many weeks and got so well bedded in …’
‘Yes, so you mentioned,’ Amelia replies, wryly.
‘But Cat has made up the west end bedroom for them – I’m sure they’ll be comfortable in there.’
‘But there must be somebody to help the girl take our luggage up, surely?’ says Amelia, eyeing Cat’s thin arms and shoulders as she hefts one of the trunks, her whole body arching backwards to take the weight of it.
‘I’m quite able to manage, thank you, madam,’ Cat grinds out tersely, scarce able to breathe.
‘Here – let me take that from you,’ Robin Durrant says, appearing in the doorway. He takes the case from Cat, lifting it easily out of her hands and carrying it into the hallway.
‘Oh! Mr Durrant … how kind of you. May I introduce you to my sister, Mrs Amelia Entwhistle? Amy, this is our resident theosophist, Mr Robin Durrant,’ Hester says, trying to keep her tone from betraying her. She isn’t sure what it is she is trying to hide, but lately there is something. There is definitely something. Robin gives Amelia’s hand a gentle shake.
‘Very pleased to meet you, Mrs Entwhistle,’ he says, smiling his widest, most disarming smile; and Amelia can’t help but return the expression.
‘Likewise, I’m sure,’ she says.
‘Well, I’m off to the station, and thence into Reading. I have a few things I must attend to … but I do hope to meet you properly at dinner, Mrs Entwhistle. Is there anything you’d like me to fetch for you while I’m in town, Mrs Canning?’ He turns his smiling eyes on Hester, who finds it hard to meet his gaze.