Page 59 of Mrs. Endicott's Splendid Adventure
At noon they made their way down the steps and across the village to Tommy and Clive’s house.
Mavis had revealed that she had made silk cravats for Tommy and Clive from a silk evening gown, also a tie for Bruno.
“Mavis, you are a dark horse,” Dora said. “You could make these and sell them, they are so good.”
Mavis gave a sheepish grin. “I made one for Louis, too. Do you think he’ll like it?”
“If it’s from you, he will,” Dora replied. “He’s taken quite a shine to you, I’ve noticed.”
Now Mavis blushed. “Not really. Just being friendly, like.”
They stopped off at Bruno’s mother’s to deliver the gift, plus a Christmas bonus pay packet. He was as excited as a little boy. Bruno’s mother begged them to stay for a meal, but they told her they were expected elsewhere.
The village was silent for once, as most people were recovering from last night’s reverie. Henri’s bar was shuttered. Even the cats were not in evidence. But Tommy and Clive’s house smelled wonderfully of roasting fowl and stuffing. They were greeted warmly as Ellie handed them the cravats, a plate of sausage rolls, and a bottle of wine.
“Such treats,” Tommy said, leading them through to a sitting room with a decorated Christmas tree in it. They were served sherry and cheese straws, then sat down for the luncheon. Ellie never remembered chicken tasting so good. It was followed by a peach pie and cream.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t find crackers this year,” Tommy said. “We should have ordered some from Harrods, but it seemed a little extravagant. Next year maybe Clive can make some for us.”
“Just because I paint pictures doesn’t mean I can design things that go bang,” Clive said with mock severity.
They lingered over coffee, then rose to leave just before it became dark.
“What a wonderful day,” Ellie said. “I don’t remember enjoying Christmas so much for years.”
“You’ve made our Christmas, too,” Tommy said. “Usually it’s just the two of us. Boring.”
“Thanks a lot,” Clive retorted. “But don’t forget to tell them about their gift.”
“Oh, of course. I nearly forgot. We have a gift for you,” Tommy said. “Only we can’t give it to you now. We’re going to help you construct achicken coop and give you some chicks when ours hatch. Then you can have your own fresh eggs.”
“Oh, what a wonderful idea,” Ellie said. “I was actually wondering if we could keep chickens, but it seemed a little too risky, not knowing how long we’d be staying here.”
“If you decide to move on, we’ll take them back,” Clive said. “But we hope you won’t.”
I hope so, too,Ellie thought.
Chapter 24
Winter soon turned into spring. The breeze was scented and had a softness to it. The mimosa flowered with yellow puffy blossoms everywhere. Cyclamens bloomed. Birds sang. The chickens were installed in a new pen at the back of the garden. Vegetables were planted. Each of the women was busy with her own activities. Dora tried her hand at painting with Clive, although, as she confessed, she would never be a Van Gogh. Ellie went down the steps and took cooking lessons with Henri. Also, the viscount had returned from Paris in the new year, and Ellie found herself invited to his château. She felt awkward about this because the invitation did not include the others.
“For goodness’ sakes go,” Dora said. “He’s a useful contact, at the very least, or you may find yourself a marchioness.”
“Don’t be silly. He would make a terrible husband. He’s too young for me anyway,” she replied.
“I don’t like coming without the other women,” Ellie said to him when she visited the château. “It doesn’t feel right.”
Roland waved an imperious hand. “Just because I like you does not mean I have to embrace your nearest and dearest,” he said. “Each person must live her own life, no?”
And so a weekly lunch became a standard practice. Ellie invited him to the villa, but he usually refused. He liked to be amongst his own things, he said. Ellie found him strange but endearing. He had a wicked sense of humour, a keen observation of life, but he never really opened up about himself. He was too young to be shut away and to be so set in his ways. Perhaps aristocrats were different, she thought. She remembered that her mother, also the child of an aristocrat of sorts, had had very set habits and opinions. She also kept her emotions firmly shut away.
Mavis, ever busy with her housework, cooking and sewing, also practiced her French. Only Yvette seemed restless and anxious. Ellie understood this. She was awaiting the birth of a baby she could probably not keep or care for. Ellie toyed with thoughts: Would Yvette want to stay with them once the baby was born? Would they want her indefinitely? She seemed grateful, but she had never gone out of her way to be friendly to any of them. She only spoke when spoken to. She often shut herself away in her room, and she rarely offered to help around the house unless asked to.
Mavis had always been suspicious of her, and Ellie thought this was because they couldn’t communicate. But now Mavis was coming along well with her French and tried talking to the girl. Ellie found her up feeding the chickens one day.
“I thought Yvette was doing this,” she said. “You shouldn’t have to. You do far too much as it is, Mavis.”
“Her!” Mavis pursed her lips. “She don’t do nothing unless you’re watching her.” She threw the last of the corn down for the birds, then brushed her hands against her apron. “You know what I think,” she said. “I don’t believe that girl was ever on a farm. She didn’t have much clue about what to do with chickens. What farm girl would not know about chickens? She was actually scared of them. And she didn’t help much with the planting or weeding, did she?”
