Page 26 of The Sapphire Child
‘Perhaps you’d like to come up to the Hall, Tibby dear?’ Minnie suggested.
Lydia frowned at her mother. ‘Not today. Andrew and Stella need to rest after their long journey.’
‘Of course,’ said Tibby. ‘You can ring and let me know when’s convenient.’ She smiled at Andrew. ‘Do you play golf?’
‘I’ve tried,’ said Andrew, ‘but I’m not very good.’
‘Well, you can come and hack around my rough-and-ready course anytime you want. Some of the boys like to play.’
‘The boys?’ he queried.
‘The artists who live with me.’
Lydia took her son by the arm. ‘Come on, let’s get you home. Car’s parked at the entrance. Goodbye, Tibby.’ She swept Andrew forward, leaving her mother and Stella to follow.
Tibby fell into step with Stella. ‘I hope you’ll call in at The Anchorage whenever you please. You’ll be very welcome, dearie.’
‘Thank you,’ Stella replied. ‘I look forward to visiting.’
Tibby gave a wide smile that made her hazel eyes crinkle in her weather-beaten face. She looked nothing like her twin brother, but Stella took to her at once. She sensed that Tom’s sister would be an ally against the forceful Lydia, if one should be needed.
Stella, sitting in the back of the car with Minnie, gazed in wonder as they drove up a tree-lined gravel drive bordered by lush greenlawns and flowerbeds packed with colourful flowers and shrubs. Ahead lay a beautiful whitewashed mansion, its casement windows partially hidden beneath creeping honeysuckle and climbing roses. The whole vista was a riot of colour, and heady floral scents wafted in through the car windows. Andrew had been right when he’d said his mother had bags of money.
Lydia, who was driving, had not stopped talking since the station, her stream of conversation almost solely addressed to Andrew who was sitting in the passenger seat beside her. Stella tried to listen in at the same time as showing an interest in Minnie’s obvious pride at her garden.
‘... and I got Lily, the maid, to lay out the lead soldiers on the nursery table,’ said Lydia. ‘They belonged to your grandfather Archibald – Tibby thought you might like to play with them. Looking at you, I’d say you’re already too old for that. Mind you, old Archibald used to stage mock battles in his library till the day he died. Keeled over in the middle of re-enacting Waterloo, by all accounts. But he was a strange old bird. Cantankerous wasn’t the word.’
‘Dad said he was a bully,’ Andrew commented.
Lydia huffed. ‘Your father was too soft – let himself be pushed around when what he should have done was stand up to the old boy. I tried to smooth things over between them but it was a waste of time and energy. Both as stubborn as each other in their own way.’
‘Lydia, dear,’ Minnie murmured from the back seat, ‘Tom’s not here to defend himself, so don’t be unkind.’
‘Oh, Mummy, you just think the best of everyone. Daddy knew what Tom was like – he always took my side...’ Lydia’s voice wobbled.
Minnie sat forward and flapped a handkerchief at her daughter. ‘There, there. Don’t get upset in front of Andrew.’
Lydia took one hand off the wheel and dabbed at her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, it’s just I get emotional every time I think about Daddy.’ She glanced at Andrew. ‘Your Templeton grandfather was the most wonderful man in the world – the epitome of a true gentleman – and I miss him every day, even though he passed away over five years ago. You would have got on so well with him.’
‘I’m sorry not to have met him,’ Andrew said.
Lydia sniffed and balled the handkerchief in her fist. ‘Yes, well, you’ve your father to blame for that. He wouldn’t bring you for a visit when you were younger, even though I begged him to—’
‘Lydia!’ Minnie chided. She put a hand on Andrew’s shoulder. ‘Do you like tennis, dear? We still keep the court in good shape even though your mother doesn’t play much these days.’
‘Yes, I do,’ Andrew said with enthusiasm. ‘There are courts at Gulmarg and I play with Dad—’ Abruptly he stopped, giving his mother an anxious glance.
‘Your father was quite good at tennis,’ Lydia conceded. ‘That’s how we met. My dear friend Harold brought him over to make up a game of doubles with me and Esmie. Did you know that?’
‘No,’ said Andrew. ‘Does Harold still come and play tennis here?’
Lydia gasped and brought the car skidding to a halt just short of the portico. She heaved on the brake and turned to Andrew in astonishment. ‘Harold’s dead! Surely Esmie’s told you about him? He was her husband before she went off with mine.’
Andrew turned red and stammered, ‘I – I knew she was married to a DrGuthrie and worked with him as a nurse in the North West Frontier.’
‘Well, that’s Harold,’ said Lydia. ‘He was your father’s best friend. Does he not speak about him?’
‘Not really,’ Andrew mumbled.
