Page 58 of Mirrors of the Past

Chapter Twenty-Two

1911

God, it was cold out there. Laurie was grumpy. Why the hell had he decided to storm out of Elsie’s house like that? And not even to sensibly stomp outside, hail a hansom cab and get back to his own accommodation where he could pour a brandy and huddle by the fireside.

The family had a house in London, which didn’t really belong to any one of them individually. The Pencradocs had bought it many, many years ago, a tall, thin townhouse near Kensington Palace Gardens. It made sense for the family to still have a pied-à-terre up there, especiallywhen Jago was travelling to town for business, and, latterly, when Laurie — as the eldest boy — was working with his uncle on estate business and needed to be there as well.

In years gone by, the young ladies of the family would have been expected to stay at the house while they took part in the Season and the ridiculous — in Laurie’s eyes — Queen Charlotte’s Ball, where twittering debutantes would be presented to the Queen, who held court next to a giant birthday cake.

Nowadays, it was a place for the family to stay if they were in London. Much to the secret chagrin of the Wheal Mount girls and Laurie’s sisters, the Pencradoc family was no longer devoted to the Season. If any of them happened to be there, all well and good — they could enjoy a party or two. But the families would not be making a special effort to find the girls husbands during the Season.

But Laurie had not done the sensible thing and headed back to the cosy house near Kensington Palace Gardens. No. He had walked around the streets near Brunswick Square, huddled in doorways and stomped around the garden square itself — all in the vain hope that Viola would leave Elsie’s and he could apprehend her for a quick word.

That’s all he wanted — a quick word, out of earshot of his sister.

He was just cursing his own stupidity, promising himself that he would give up in five more minutes, when he saw the door to Elsie’s house open and Viola step outside. She tilted her head up, closed her eyes and stuck her tongue out. It looked like she was catching snowflakes as they drifted down over the heavy sky. Then, opening her eyes and smiling, she looked along the road and stepped out onto the pavement.

Thank the Lord!

Laurie hurried along the snow-covered street — he could barely feel his fingers and toes right now, despite his thick boots and warm gloves, but he caught up with Viola and reached out, touching her shoulder.

‘Hey!’ she cried, swivelling around, anger in her face. ‘What the . . . Oh! Laurie. It’s you.’ The anger disappeared from her face and was replaced with a startled expression instead. ‘Sorry, I . . .’ She gestured wildly with her hand muff but as her hands were still tucked inside it, it all looked a bit odd. ‘A girl from back home, Dorothy Arnold — she disappeared last year from New York. She was taken from the street, maybe, and I thought you were . . .’

‘Going to grab you from behind and spirit you away?’ he asked. ‘Oh, hell. I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I should have called your name and got your attention that way.’ Would he ever do anything right? Or was he fated to always make huge mistakes any time he was near this girl?

‘More or less.’

‘I’m sorry — I honestly didn’t mean to scare you. That’s dreadful about that girl — Dorothy, you say? Doesn’t anyone know what happened to her?’ The thought of one of his sisters vanishing like that was horrendous.

‘No.’ Viola shook her head. ‘There are lots of stories, but nobody knows the truth.’

Viola looked upset and Laurie could have kicked himself again for not thinking before he approached her.

‘Again. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.’

‘Oh, I’m not scared now I know it’s you,’ she said. She nodded, pulling herself together. ‘Well. Good day, Mr Teague. Unless there’s a particular reason why you tried to get my attention beyond just for the hell of it.’

Laurie pushed his hands into his pocket and tried his best to look contrite. It didn’t come easily to look contrite around Viola. A scowl felt much more natural. ‘There was a reason I waited for you—’

‘You waited for me? In this?’ She looked up at the cold grey sky, thick with falling flakes. ‘Why ever did you do that? Couldn’t you have just come back into your sister’s house?’

‘So many questions.’ He fought against a smile. ‘Look, can we walk for a little? I really think I’m going to freeze to the spot if I stay here any longer.’

‘Sure.’ Viola looked surprised. ‘I’m heading this way.’ Again, she gestured with her hand muff.

‘Thank you. Shall we?’ He gestured for her to begin walking and fell into step beside her. ‘Now, to answer your questions. Yes, I waited for you — as I told you. I’m not in the habit of lying to make myself look more gallant. I did indeed wait for you.’ He raised his eyes heavenwards. ‘In this.’ He thought he saw a smile twitch at the corner of her mouth. That was a good sign.

‘I don’t want or expect any gallant or grand gestures,’ she said hurriedly. ‘Let’s just get that straight between us right now! Never!’

‘All right. I believe you. Which is just as well, because all that is something I could never really be or do, and have never been or done. Much to my chagrin. But also, and here I switch your questions and answers around a little, I didn’t want to go back into my sister’s house today because I’ve had enough of her machinations and it always feels good to storm out on El, because you very rarely get the last word in otherwise. Trust me. I’ve known her all my life.’ The smile appeared to grow, although Viola kept her head studiously down, seemingly watching where she was going for patches of ice. ‘And the reason why I waited, Viola, is because I wanted to apologise to you.’

‘Apologise to me?’ Now he had her full attention and she looked at him, confused. ‘Why ever do you need to apologise to me?’

‘Two more questions!’ He took his hand out of his pocket and held up his thumb and his forefinger. ‘One,’ he said, folding his thumb back in. ‘Yes. I do need to apologise. And two.’ He folded his finger in. ‘I didn’t really mean what I said about us not liking each other. Obviously. I can’t speak for you liking me, but I wanted you to know that I don’t — dislike you.’ There. He’d said it. ‘I actually do quite — like you. In a weird way.’ It was his turn to put his head down and frown at the snow underfoot. ‘I mean, you and I haven’t exactly had the best of introductions to one another. First of all, I knock you into a puddle.’

‘Oof. Yes. But then I guess I was a little mean to you as well. The jigsaw puzzle was not broken. I just wanted to make you feel tiled for being such a clodpole.’

‘Pardon?’ It was Laurie’s turn to smile. ‘In English, please?’