Caroline turned it over in her hands, her heart thumping, still trying to guess the contents. It had been some weeks since her last letter from her parents, and they’d given no indication that anything might be wrong at home. So only something truly awful and unexpected could have merited a telegram, of all things …
As she reluctantly began to tear open the envelope, she heard footsteps on the stairs. Grace appeared in the kitchen,breathless and with her hair arranged in plump, soft braids drawn into a bun at the nape of her neck.
‘Tilly says you’ve got a telegram?’ When Caroline nodded, showing her the envelope, she went on impatiently, ‘All right, who’s it from? What’s it about?’ Grace tutted at her helpless look. ‘You haven’t read it yet, have you? But it must be urgent … What are you waiting for?’
Instead of replying, Caroline dragged out the single sheet and read the message over several times to herself without taking it in.
‘Well?’ Her friend came closer, her eyes wide. ‘What does it say? Please, Caro, you’re worrying me now.’
Swallowing, Caroline read the telegram out loud in a faltering voice. ‘Grandmother at death’s door. Come home at once. Father.’
There was a short silence, broken by Caroline’s sob as the words finally made sense to her.
‘Oh, Caro, I’m so sorry.’ Grace pulled her into her a fierce hug and Caroline wept into her shoulder.
When she pulled back, Caroline reached for her hanky. ‘I … I can’t believe it. Gran’s always been a picture of health. I wish I knew what was wrong.’
Grace had taken the telegram and was reading it herself. ‘Nine words exactly,’ she pointed out, and pulled a face. Telegrams were charged at ninepence for the first nine words only, further words being more expensive. ‘Cheaper not to go into detail.’
Caroline couldn’t reply, still weeping into her hanky. Her head was reeling … Could Gran have been involved in a terrible accident? Or had she caught that particularly bad strain of influenza that was going around? Even previouslyhealthy people had been knocked sideways by the flu before now.
She wasn’t sure what to do for the best. Home was so far away, a long day’s journey. The awful truth was the old lady’s health might have worsened in the time it had taken the telegram to arrive. She could even have died. Again, she wished she knew the exact situation. If only they’d already had a telephone installed at the farm …
‘I have to go,’ she blurted out, stumbling to the porch in search of coat and boots. ‘I need to catch the next train home.’
But Grace followed her. ‘Look, I know you’re upset,’ she said gently. ‘I would be too. But you can’t leave until tomorrow. You’ve already missed the last bus to Penzance train station today.’
Caroline groaned, feeling caught in a nightmare. Tomorrow might be too late. But what choice did she have?
‘Besides, you need to get some food down you before rushing off. And to pack a bag. You don’t know how long you’ll be gone, remember.’ Grace hesitated. ‘Listen, do you want me to come with you tomorrow, if Joe can spare us both?’
‘Take you back to London with me? Oh no, I …’ Caroline gave a stuttering, nonsensical reply, struck dumb by the idea of Grace travelling home with her on the bus and train, then being introduced to her parents.
The thought was unspeakably wonderful, a cosy hug at a moment of dreadful unhappiness. Yet it was also terrifying. For she wouldn’t be able to hide her feelings for such a long period, would she? And her sharp-eyed mother would be bound to spot her partiality for Grace, and there wouldbe embarrassing questions and recriminations, and then her overprotective father would probably put his foot down and try to stop Caroline ever leaving home again …
Besides, what would Grace say if she gave herself away like that? Would her friend ever speak to her again once she knew that Caroline liked her far, far too much?
‘No, you’re right. It would only complicate everything,’ Grace answered for her at once, practical and understanding. ‘Look, maybe Joe will run you down to the bus first thing tomorrow to save time. You go ask him; I’ll start packing a bag for you.’ And with that, she hurried away, leaving Caroline alone and in tears, that awful telegram staring back at her like an accusation of wrongdoing.
Grandmother at death’s door. Come home at once. Father.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It was still dark when Selina was awoken early by the sound of hurrying feet and voices along the upstairs landing.Who on earth…?
Pushing aside her troubled dreams, she swung her legs reluctantly out of bed, but winced at the cold air, thankful for her thick woollen bedsocks. Snow had lain deep around Thornton Hall ever since her return from visiting Postbridge Farm, blanketing much of Bodmin Moor and its surrounds in crisp thick whiteness. The hall’s open fires and electric heaters had kept the cold at bay so far, but the night before had brought another of those interminable power cuts, so her small two-bar heater had not managed to warm the room before bedtime.
Thrusting her feet into slippers, Selina pulled back her bedroom curtains to reveal white lawns and shrubberies slowly glimmering in the dawn half-light and shivered reluctantly.
Her cosy bed still beckoned, but the sound of whispering urged her to the door instead, frowning with concern. It wasthe second morning in a row that she’d been woken by some faint commotion, but yesterday she’d been too exhausted to move and had drifted back to sleep without rising to investigate. The unseasonal cold had taken its toll on everyone that winter, and even the promise of Christmas just ahead was not enough to keep their spirits up.
She crept along the landing, belting up her dressing gown. ‘Hello?’
No answer.
The doors to the children’s rooms were closed, she saw thankfully. But Nancy’s door was partly ajar, and she stopped on the threshold, alarmed by the sound of someone choking inside, as though being sick.
Had one of the children fallen ill and run to their cousin for help instead of their aunt? It was possible, she supposed, though a little disheartening. Still, if the girls saw their new nanny as a confidante, that was not a bad thing.
