Lily Lavatera. Lily Lavatera placed her pen down on the desk. The letters can wait, she said to herself, staring momentarily at the photograph of Edward Wynsor propped on her desk in front of her. Studying the black and white photograph, she sensed her eyes fill with tears. News of Edward's death the day before had almost undone her; it came in a letter from one of his closest friends, with whom he served with the regiment in Libya. What was worse, Edward's wife, Alisma, would also be grieving at this moment in time, unaware, Lily hoped, that she had been Edward's lover. And what was worse, Lily and Alisma were close friends, although they had not seen each other for some time. For a few moments the photograph became blurred as tears filled her eyes, but she wiped her eyes with her right hand and looked away from the celluloid image. Getting up from the desk she walked to the fireplace and stood for a few minutes staring into the flames. Then she pushed the bell on the wall and waited for the maid. Standing by the fireplace, she could see out of the large window that revealed the cold February morning. She shuddered. The thought of Edward no longer walking with her out across the lawn, between the groves of elms, filled her with a deep dread, and threatened to fill her eyes with tears again. - You rang, Miss? the young maid asked, entering the room. -Yes, Daisy. Could you bring me some tea? Lily said without turning round. - Yes, Miss, Daisy Chayne said, curtsying out of the room, even though her mistress hadn't turned round. The door eased shut behind her. Lily went to the window and peered out onto the frost-ridden lawn. All seemed to be blanketed with a thin whiteness which hardened and sometimes killed. Moving her eyes across the lawn, she let them fall on the far summerhouse where she and Edward frequently went to be alone on late summer evenings. Her mind at that moment drifted back to the previous year, just prior to Christmas, when he came and stayed a few days before returning to his wife and son George home from boarding school. They had gone to the summerhouse, though it was winter, to escape the cold breeze. - It�s been quite a year, Edward said. Battle of Britain and all that, and us too much apart. - Yes, too much apart, Lily had said and mouthed the words now looking out at the far summerhouse frosted up. And that had been the last time they had made love. Up in her bedroom when all others were asleep and Edward had crept surreptitiously along the passageway to find her. Yet, she mused to herself sadly, I didn't feel any sense of guilt. Never for a moment thought about Alisma. Until now. The door opened slowly and Daisy entered holding a tray with teapot, cup and saucer, milk jug and sugar bowl and placed them cautiously on the small table by the fireplace. - Will there be anything else, Miss? Daisy asked. Lily turned from the window and gazed at her maid for a few seconds. - What did you think of Major Wynsor, Daisy? Lily enquired in a low voice. Daisy bit her lower lip for a few moments in what passed for thought, and scratched her chin to give the impression of deep consideration. - Well, he was always nice to me, Miss, Daisy replied quietly. - Yes, Lily said, but what did you think of him as a person? Daisy stiffened and bit her lip again. Her eyes lowered to the carpet. - Very brave, Daisy ventured. I mean, him being out there fighting the Germans and away from his family and all that. Daisy dried up. She lifted her eyes to her mistress. I expect his wife will grieve for him something rotten, Daisy added as an afterthought. And you too, of course, Miss, she further added, moving her face into an attempted smile. Lily nodded, but did not reply straight away, but instead turned once again to scan the lawn for Edward. Lily could hear Daisy moving uneasily behind her, waiting to be dismissed. - Daisy, sit down for a moment, she said. She heard the maid plonk herself noisily in one of the armchairs by the fireplace. The girl was a terrible fidget, Lily mused, wishing she could see Edward, but knowing she wouldn't. Finally, after a minute staring at the lawn without Edward, she turned and sat in the armchair opposite Daisy. We need another cup, Lily said gently. - Who for, Miss? Daisy asked dimly. - You, Lily said, nodding towards her maid. Daisy blushed. - Me, Miss? Oh, I couldn't. What would Cook say? Daisy uttered. - Leave Mrs Coix to me and get another cup, Lily stated firmly. Daisy stood, curtsied and left the room like the timid mouse she seemed. Lily smiled. Poor girl, she mused, a bag of nerves. No wonder, I suppose, with Mrs Coix in charge of her, Lily mused, smiling briefly. Looking across at the armchair opposite, she remembered that Edward loved to sit there, and gaze out at the view of the lawn and the distant summerhouse. And for a few moments she thought she could see him there, smiling in that way he had, gazing at her profoundly has he always did with those deep blue eyes of his. Wonder what he'd say about inviting the maid to drink tea with me? Lily mused darkly. Frown on it no doubt. Got to keep them in their place, Lily, he'd say, when she seemed too kind or considerate to him with servants. But today was different. She wanted someone who knew her and Edward, to open up and say what they thought or knew. She was sure Daisy would open up. Did Daisy know about her and Edward? she asked herself. Know about us making love in my room at night?� She blushed at the mere thought of it. And was still blushing she imagined, when Daisy returned to the room with a cup and saucer. - Mrs Coix is in the pantry, Daisy informed, standing by the armchair, hoping she'd heard her mistress rightly, but feeling doubt. - You can sit down, Daisy, Lily said, after a few seconds waiting to see if the maid would do so automatically, but she didn't, only stood there awkwardly, like a child. Daisy sat down, arranged the cups into saucers, and began to pour the tea. She still felt awkward sitting there in front of her mistress and her mind sensed her mistress's eyes on her as she poured the tea. Relax, Daisy. You're a bag of nerves, Lily said, as he watched the maid's hand shake with the teapot. - Sorry, Miss, not use to drinking tea with people like yourself, Daisy said, shyly. Having poured tea into both cups without spilling any, she looked at her mistress's hands: white, delicate, almost fragile. Lily helped herself to milk and sugar, and indicated with a gesture of her right hand for Daisy to do likewise. - Major Wynsor and I were very close, Lily stated bluntly. I shall miss him not coming here, she added. - I expect you will, Miss, Daisy replied in a low voice. - His wife and I are old friends, so I expect I'll be invited to the funeral service. Though his body won't be brought back, Lily said, the latter words almost in a whisper. She sipped her tea and looked at the maid. - What are they going to do about the body, then, Miss? Daisy asked puzzled. - They will bury the body out in Libya, I expect, Lily informed matter-of-factly, but inwardly wishing it wasn't so. Too far to return the body at such a time, she added, turning to gaze around the room as if Edward was there listening. She mused as her eyes wandered the room, about Edward's body. How she would never see it again, never hold it again, against her, feel the warmth of it. - Never seen a dead person before, Daisy uttered vaguely. - I saw one many years ago, Lily said, breaking away from her thoughts of Edward's body. - Did you, Miss? Daisy said, childlike in her fascination. - Yes, Lily said, turning to gaze at her maid, a young woman, a servant of my Father's, hanged herself in the woods. Lily paused. She remembered the body of the girl swaying in the slight wind, her head to one side. How old was I then? she asked herself, momentarily forgetting about Daisy sitting opposite. Seven or eight, I was, she informed herself, sitting back in the armchair, holding the cup a few inches away from her lips. - How horrible, Daisy muttered, frowning at the thought. Why�d she do that? she asked after a few seconds reflecting on the image her mind had conjured up. - Grief, Lily whispered as if she didn't want the maid to hear. Her boyfriend, whom she intended to marry, was killed in the Great War. She couldn't come to terms with the loss, and so she hanged herself. Lily paused again. Nanny and I discovered the body while out walking in the woods. Nanny screamed, but I just stared and tried to make sense of it. - You don't think Major Wynsor's wife will do such a thing, do you, Miss? Daisy asked, bring her cup to her lips. - No, of course not, Daisy, Lily said firmly. Mrs Wynsor is a Lady. Ladies don't do that kind of thing. She sipped her tea and drained the cup. Putting the cup in the saucer, she placed both down on the table. She watched as the maid did likewise, then for a few moments gazed at the girl's face. Have you got a gentleman friend, Daisy? Lily asked. The maid blushed and looked down at her hands. - No, Miss, Daisy replied, but I hope to have one day. She said nothing else, but played with her fingers that were laid in her lap. Her mind closed on the thought that was about to enter her consciousness. She held it back, but an image still formed in her mind. The Major and his hands. Things he said. His whispered words. She blushed and was conscious of blushing. Can I go now, Miss? she asked, pushing the image of the Major from her mind as she often had to push him away from her body. - Yes, Daisy, before Mrs Coix misses you, Lily said coolly. She had wanted to open the maid up and gather some idea what was in the girl's mind, if anything, but it wasn't going to happen she realised, and sighed inwardly, disappointed at her failure. The maid got up from the armchair and picked up the tray. Something made the maid pause. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again. What is it, Daisy? Lily asked catching the opening and closing lips. - Nothing, Miss. Only...the maid paused, her face redden. - What is it, Daisy? Lily asked firmly, slightly annoyed at the girl's childishness. - The Major. He sometimes...Again, the maid paused. Lily got up from the armchair and walked to the window. The whiteness was still there, but primulas and snowdrops held their heads bravely against it all. She could hear the maid�s voice, but didn't want to know what she was saying. Out in the garden she was certain she could see Edward waiting by the summerhouse, but when she looked again he was gone. - You can go now, Daisy, Lily stated. Mrs Coix will be looking for you. She could hear the maid sigh and the rattle of the cups and saucers as the tray was moved from the room. The door closed with a dull thud. Lily brought her hands together and held them to her lips as if she were about to pray. The words of the maid drifted in and around her mind. Silly girl, she told herself, mindless fool. As if Edward would even look at the girl, she informed her mind, staring across at the grove of elms. For a moment she thought she saw a body swaying from one of the elms. The head tilted to one side, the tongue protruding rudely. Then it was gone and only a branch swayed back and forth gently as if in some dance with the breeze. Closing her eyes, she imagined Edward was behind her holding her in his arms. She wanted to sense him there, close and his warmth against her. She needed to hear his words again, his warm breath on her neck. But all she heard now were the maid's words, echoing in the still room. * * * * *
Copyright © 2000 Terry Collett |