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‘She says he’ll never agree to a divorce, and that we have to make the best of it.’
‘I don’t think you should make the best of it, as Pauline calls it! You’re stuck with a woman too old to have your children, and one who obviously won’t get a divorce for some reason.’
Leaning forward, Cecily said emphatically, ‘Harry, please be sensible, think of yourself. And your future. You’re forty years old. Get out now and go your own way. You will meet someone, I just know you will.’
‘That’s very funny talk coming from you. I can remember your litany … you always said you could never love anybody else but Miles. And that’s how I feel about Pauline.’
‘It’s hard, I do know that, I really do. Mam thought it might be a good idea if you could get away for a while, take a holiday. Actually, I wish you could come with us now … to Zurich.’
Harry half smiled. ‘I run this estate with Miles, and when he’s away I have to be here. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t enjoy a holiday with you both in Zurich. I love being with you and Miles. The thing is, though, you take your problems with you, wherever you go. And before you nay-say me, those are words you once said to me about your feelings for Miles.’
Cecily nodded, filled with love for her brother, and also understanding his situation, his emotions. He was in love with a woman he couldn’t marry, one who most likely couldn’t bear his children. Cecily didn’t want to chastise him, or question him, only to comfort him. And encourage him to move on. She wished she could introduce him to someone special, but she did not have anyone in mind at the moment. Anyway, he would resent her interference.
Rising, Cecily said, ‘I’m here for you whenever you need me, Harry, and so is Miles.’
Harry also jumped to his feet, and he took hold of her arm affectionately. ‘I know that, and thank you for caring.’
They went up the path together without speaking, holding hands. He broke away when they arrived at the stable block. After kissing her cheek, Harry murmured, ‘I’ll look after David and Walter whilst you’re gone, Ceci. I love them, you know.’
She nodded. ‘You’re the perfect uncle,’ she responded.
He smiled at her and walked off.
She watched him go, thinking what a good-looking man he was; he was kind and caring as well. And he did love her children. That was only too apparent in the way he spent time with the boys, and taught them so much. What a wonderful father he would make, and certainly a good husband.
Walking towards the terrace, she could not help thinking what a sad life her brother had. He loved Cavendon and his job. He and Miles were the closest of friends and worked well together. He was popular with everyone, and much admired and surrounded by loved ones here.
But he was alone, living in the house Great-Aunt Charlotte had given him. All alone. He must feel hollow inside. He cooked his own meals. Or he went across the village street to their parents’ house, or ate at the village pub, Little Skell Arms. He was not a social animal and was mostly on his own.
It’s not fair, Cecily suddenly thought, with a rush of anger. That woman is using him. My brother deserves better. And I’m going to make sure he gets it.
Ten minutes later there was a knock on Cecily’s bedroom door, and Diedre was saying, ‘Can I come in?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Cecily called out, and went over to the door as Diedre walked in, smiling, and holding a dress. It was one she had recently purchased from the Burlington Arcade shop.
‘Is there something wrong with it?’ Cecily asked, eyeing the dress.
Diedre glanced around. ‘Well, I’m not sure about the pleating on the side. I hope I’m not disturbing you and Miles? Is he in your sitting room?’
Cecily shook her head. ‘No. He’s out in the garden with the boys, and Venetia is helping Nanny to cut some flowers for me. You want to speak to me alone, is that it?’ she asked, her mouth puckering into a smile.
‘That’s right.’ Diedre put the dress over a chair. ‘As usual it fits me perfectly. It was just a ploy, a reason to come and see you.’
‘Let’s sit here. If Miles comes back sooner than I expect, he’ll make for the sitting room. He always does.’
Diedre sat on the sofa next to Cecily. ‘I don’t want to get your hopes up high, but I did speak to a contact of mine. This morning. In Berlin. He’s going to see if there’s any way he can help Greta’s family.’
‘Oh how wonderful!’ Cecily’s face lit up.
‘Don’t get excited, Ceci. And don’t say a word to Greta. Or anyone else, for that matter. Not even Miles. There is a huge problem for the Steinbrenners, and that is their passports. They need brand-new ones, as I told you yesterday. Too many to get at one time, in my opinion. The family may have to be extracted one at a time, over many months.’
‘Oh no, that would be so difficult for them,’ Cecily protested. ‘Greta will be upset.’
Diedre gave Cecily a hard stare, and her face was grave. She said, ‘You must understand that this is the hardest thing to do. Virtually impossible now. Greta won’t have a say in it. If I can get just one person out, I’ll be lucky. And so will that person. Who would the family member be? What do you think?’
‘I have no idea. From what I know about the professor, I am sure he would want his children to leave first. If it’s only one, then I think he would pick Elise, his daughter. But I can ask Greta and—’
‘You cannot speak of this to Greta!’ Diedre cried sharply. ‘I just told you that, Cecily! No one can know. The choice will have to be made at the last moment. Please say you understand what a tough thing this is to do. And dangerous.’
‘Yes, I do, I’m sorry, Diedre, if I’m sounding stupid.’
‘You’re not, and I know you don’t realize what the situation is like in Berlin. The Gestapo are everywhere, and the SS, and everyone is under suspicion. I’m sorry I snapped at you, but someone will have to do this for me, and it could cost them their lives if they are caught.’
Cecily had turned pale. She nodded. ‘I wasn’t making light of it. I realize what a serious matter this is.’
Diedre reached out and squeezed her arm. ‘Secrecy is imperative. Nothing can be said to Daphne or anyone else when you get to Zurich. You do know that?’
‘I do. It’s between the two of us. I will never betray you.’ Cecily clenched her fist and stretched out her arm. ‘Loyalty binds me,’ she said.
Diedre did the same, and put her clenched hand on top of Cecily’s. ‘Loyalty binds me,’ she repeated.
FOREIGN INTRIGUE (#ulink_e4c6d989-1da7-5b5a-9145-881af521c137)
Jack be nimble, Jack be quick,
Jack jump over the candlestick.
Old English nursery rhyme
NINE (#ulink_ee11a01f-fb66-5a8c-acf6-2ad309ae2a96)
Daphne had fallen in love with the Villa Fleurir on Lake Zurich the first time she saw it, just over twenty-four years ago. Hugo had taken her to Paris for their honeymoon and then they had travelled on to Switzerland where they had stayed for some time.
The villa was spacious, with large rooms flowing into each other, and all of the colours used were soft, muted: cream and white, pale pink and peach, and the lightest of blues.
It was an airy and welcoming place; there was a certain informality about the house and its furnishings which Daphne had never changed, loving its sense of ease and comfort.
Mellow antiques were placed here and there in most of the rooms, intermingled with large, comfortable sofas and chairs covered in lovely fabrics, and there were beautiful paintings on the walls. All these furnishings enhanced the rooms, gave them a certain familiar look, but the villa was by no means decorated in a full-blown traditional style, which frequently looked far too stiff to Daphne.
Its informality had led her to create a more casual way of living over the years, especially after more of their children had been born, and everyone loved staying at the villa – be it in summer or winter – because of this. Cavendon was their home, but with a great house came a responsibility and expectations of certain standards. Over the years the villa had become the holiday home for Daphne and Hugo and their children, and other members of the family as well. Daphne’s father, the 6th Earl, had spent his honeymoon here with Charlotte Swann and had been captivated by its beauty and tranquillity.
The main reception rooms opened on to a large garden that swept down to the lake, and the views were spectacular. Hugo, who had bought the villa long before his marriage to Daphne, had never wanted to sell it, and had hung on to it even when financial problems loomed. He had always understood that Villa Fleurir was a wonderful place to escape to and relax in, and also to enjoy the natural beauty surrounding the house, and the ancient town of Zurich, which had great charm.
The one room Daphne had changed was a small sitting room which opened off the library. She had eventually taken this for herself. By adding a desk she had instantly made it into an office. As long as she had a safe place for her papers, and a spot in which to work, she was happy.
On this sunny morning in the first week of August, she sat at the desk, going over the household books. Having run Cavendon for years for her father, she had become accustomed to checking everything, including the money spent at the villa. Satisfied she was within her budget, she closed the last book, and sat back in her chair.
When she had first married Hugo, Hans and Hilde Bauer had run the house with great efficiency, keeping everything shipshape and running well. Their son Bruno, his wife Anna, and two maids who came in daily, had taken over after Hans had retired. If anything, the son was better than the father, but Daphne always kept that thought to herself. And Anna was the best cook, but Hilda had equalled her. They were lucky to have the Bauers to take care of them.
Getting up from the desk, she walked out into the foyer and hurried through the drawing room, making for the door leading to the garden. She stood on the threshold of the French doors, shading her eyes in the bright sunlight, and spotted her daughter Alicia sitting in the gazebo at the end of the lawn. Glancing around, she realized the house was still, very quiet for once. Everyone had disappeared except for Alicia.
Daphne walked down to the gazebo, admiring the grounds as she moved towards the lake ahead of her. The flowers were magnificent, making the garden breathtaking this year. Everything had bloomed so well, and fortunately at the right time.
Alicia looked up when she saw her mother standing next to her and smiled at Daphne.
Her mother bent down and kissed her cheek, and sat next to her. ‘Where is everyone, darling? Have they all gone out?’
‘No, not at all. Cecily is upstairs in their bedroom. She told me she has work to do. And some telephoning, checking on her business, I’ve no doubt. Charlie is in his room writing. My father went to a meeting and took Miles with him. He said they would be back in time for lunch, and not to worry about them being late.’
Daphne laughed. ‘Your father’s hardly ever late, bless him.’
‘I’m glad Cecily and Miles are here, Mummy,’ Alicia said. ‘I thought she looked tired. They both did. But Cecily seemed tenser.’
‘I know what you mean. I noticed that myself when they arrived on Tuesday night. But a few days here and she seems to be more at ease, don’t you think?’
‘It’s the house, you know, everyone sort of collapses here. And they become soft and unworried and genial. I guess I’m right about that.’
Daphne laughed. ‘I know you are. They let go, actually. So, have you made a decision, Alicia? Are you going to join your brothers at the Bowens’ in the south of France or not?’
Alicia shook her head. ‘No, I’m not, Mummy. I’m going to go home to Cavendon next Monday, actually. I want to prepare for work, for September, which is when Felix and Constance will be back. I had a note from him yesterday, and he says they will take me on as a client.’
‘I’m so glad, darling!’ Daphne exclaimed. ‘They’re the best; they will do well for you. And it won’t do you any harm as an actress to be the niece of one of England’s greatest actors.’
There was a sudden commotion, laughter and masculine voices echoing in the air. Daphne stopped talking and glanced behind her. So did Alicia, who exclaimed, ‘It’s Papa, Miles and Charlie. But what on earth are they doing?’
Daphne shook her head. ‘I’ve no idea. However, I do see a pair of ladies’ shoes peeping out from behind their collective trouser legs.’
‘Oh, it’s Cecily, obviously! They must be teasing her about something,’ Alicia volunteered. ‘They’re certainly joking around a lot.’
It was Charlie, Daphne’s eldest son, who began to march down the garden path, raising his arms, moving his hands gracefully, like a conductor commanding a huge orchestra. He sang out, ‘Ta da! Ta da! Ta da!’
At that moment Cecily appeared on the scene. She came through the French doors and on to the terrace, walking over to the men.
Alicia said, ‘Oh, they must be hiding someone else, Mummy. Whoever could it be?’
‘I don’t have a clue,’ Daphne answered and stood up, moved out of the gazebo, staring at the terrace. Instantly she knew who it was and her heart lifted with a flare of happiness. There was only one person in the world who had those gorgeous legs, now fully visible in very high heels.
‘Hey there! Don’t hide behind those silly men!’ she called out. ‘I know it’s you because of your legs and your shoes, Diedre.’
Hugo, who was well aware that very little ever surprised his darling wife, stepped to one side, and so did Miles, allowing Diedre to run down the path and into Daphne’s outstretched arms.
Cecily, who stood next to Miles, was wondering why Diedre was in Zurich? Was she here with news for her? Cecily dismissed that idea at once. It was far too soon for news. It was only last Friday, just a week ago today, that she had first spoken to Diedre about Greta’s problem. Maybe Diedre had just wanted a chance to relax for a few days away from Cavendon, needing new scenery, a little respite from the family.
Cecily knew how hard she worked, and how involved she was with her job at the War Office. Not that she ever said a word. She could not, presumably because she was bound by the secrecy laws of the country. If she was working in Intelligence. None of them knew a thing about her job; she had never been talkative about her life in London before her marriage to Paul. Nor after she returned to work in 1935.
The two sisters clung to each other for a moment or two. They had become closer than ever over the last nine years, working together through the family troubles and travails, and especially after Paul had died so suddenly. Diedre had been felled by the most terrible grief, had relied on her, Cecily and DeLacy. They had each helped as much as they could, been there for her when sorrow threatened to overcome her.
Finally stepping apart, they grinned at each other. ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes,’ Daphne said. ‘Welcome, Diedre darling. I’m so happy to see you.’
Before Diedre could respond, Hugo cut in, ‘I couldn’t believe it when we arrived back at the villa and Miles was shouting, “Look what the wind’s blown in”, and there was Diedre standing just in front of us, paying off a taxi.’
Diedre turned to her sister, and said, ‘The thing is this, Daphne. I had to go to Geneva on Wednesday night. I was surprised at how well it all went on Thursday, and it struck me how close I was to Zurich. And I suddenly wanted to be with all of you, spend a few days here. And I decided just to come and surprise you without even phoning.’
‘And we’re glad you did,’ Miles said. ‘You’re a wonderful surprise.’
‘It’s lovely to have you, Diedre,’ Cecily murmured warmly, and went to kiss her sister-in-law on the cheek.
Diedre gave Cecily a very direct look. Their eyes locked and the knowing glance they exchanged said everything. Say nothing.
Daphne slipped her arm through Hugo’s. ‘Let’s go to the terrace and have cold drinks before lunch. It’s getting quite hot out here.’ Glancing at him, she added, ‘Anna and Bruno know Diedre is here, don’t they?’
‘Oh, yes. Bruno took Diedre’s suitcase up to her room, and he said he would tell Anna to set another place at the table.’
Daphne nodded and started up along the path with her husband, the others following behind.
The long terrace at the back of the villa, facing the lake and the mountains, was actually a roofed gallery in the form of a loggia, the roof offering shade and protection, and the open ends allowing air to flow freely. It was usually cool even on the warmest of days, and the family always ate lunch here in the summer, and often dinner as well.
The seven of them sat down in white basket-weave armchairs, which surrounded a glass-and-iron table. As they were settling themselves, Bruno arrived with a tray of glasses and a large crystal jug of lemonade. After serving them, he turned to Daphne and murmured, ‘When would you like luncheon to be served, my lady?’
‘In about half an hour, Bruno, thank you.’
He nodded and took his leave.
Charlie said, ‘Do you often get to Geneva, Aunt Diedre?’
‘Only occasionally, Charlie. Why do you ask?’
‘I was just curious. Also, I thought you should consider dropping in more often, don’t you agree, Mama?’
‘I do indeed, but your aunt has Robin to think of, you know, and he spends the summers at Cavendon, which is where we’ll usually find Diedre. At his side, being a good mother.’
‘Maybe I’ll bring him over here again for a few days,’ Diedre interjected. ‘He’s always enjoyed himself when we stayed, and especially with you, Charlie. Thank you for spending time with him and making him feel special and, most importantly, grown up.’
‘He’s a fabulous boy. When I talk to him and listen to his answers to my questions, and look into his eyes, I can’t help thinking he’s been here before, that he’s an old soul.’
Diedre nodded. ‘I think he is.’ She paused for a moment. ‘He misses his father, and you’ve sort of filled the breach during the holidays. He adores you, Charlie, and you’ve given him the writing bug. He told me last weekend that he wants to be a journalist, like you’re going to be after Oxford.’
‘I did encourage him. I hope you’re not upset.’
‘No, not at all.’
Changing the subject and looking across at Miles, Charlie now said, ‘Talking of journalism, I’ve noticed the British newspapers have been full of stuff about Edward and his lady-love. Our former king seems to have really embraced Hitler and the Nazis. There was a quote in one of the papers the other day … apparently he told someone that he was entirely of German blood. I think he said it to Joachim von Ribbentrop when he was the German ambassador in London, but I’m—’
‘I read that too,’ Miles cut in. ‘And he actually said it to Diana Mosley, not Ribbentrop.’ Miles shook his head. ‘I’m sure she was thrilled to hear that, given Sir Oswald’s admiration of Hitler. She and Mosley are in Berlin constantly, and so is her sister Unity, who’s obsessed with Hitler.’
‘Those Mitford sisters take the cake!’ Hugo exclaimed. ‘Worshipping at the shrine of the Führer, and Unity fawning all over him. He’s very flattered by all the attention he gets from certain members of the British aristocracy. Fools, the lot of them. No wonder Churchill sits fuming, I would, too. In fact, I do fume, in sympathy with him.’
‘I know what you mean,’ Daphne interjected. ‘I’ve noticed the Establishment feels the same way, though: they think Hitler’s a great leader. They’re afraid of Communism, that’s why.’
