Suddenly, it was funny. Balmerino of Croy. Such a fine-sounding title, and such a ludicrous situation. It was no good trying to work out why everything had gone so wrong because there was nothing much he could do about it anyway. No more harking back. Duty called and the Lady Balmerino waited.
For some obscure reason he felt more cheerful. He started up the engine and drove the short distance across the gravel to the front of the house.
5
It had drizzled most of the day but now it was fine, so after his tea Henry went out into Edie's garden with her. This ran down to the river, and her washing line was strung between two apple trees. He helped her to unpeg the washing and put it into the wicker basket, and they folded the sheets together with a snap and a crack to get all the creases out of them. With this accomplished, they went back into the house and Edie set up the ironing board and began ironing her pillowcases and her pinafore and a blouse. Henry watched, liking the smell and the way the hot iron made the crunchy damp linen all smooth and shiny and crisp.
He said, "You're very good at ironing."
"I'd need to be after all these years at it."
"How many years, Edie?"
"Well…" She dumped the iron down on its end and folded the pillowcase with her dimpled red hands. "I'm sixty-eight now, and 1 was eighteen when I first went to work for Mrs. Aird. Work that one out."
Even Henry could do that sum. "Fifty years."
"Fifty years is a long way to look ahead, but looking back it doesn't seem any time at all. Makes you wonder what life's all about."
"Tell me about Alexa and London." Henry had never been to London, but Edie had lived there once.
"Oh, Henry, I've told you these stories a thousand times."
"I like to hear them again."
"Well…" She pressed a crease, sharp as a knife edge. "When your daddy was much younger, he was married to a lady called Caroline. They were married in London, at St. Margaret's, Westminster, and we all went down for the occasion, and stayed at a hotel called the Berkeley. And what a wedding that was! Ten lovely bridesmaids, all in white dresses, like a flock of swans. And after the wedding we all went to another very grand hotel called the Ritz, and there were waiters in tailcoats and so grand you've have thought they were wedding guests themselves. And there was champagne and such a spread of food you didn't know where to start."
"Were there jellies?"
"Jellies in every colour. Yellow and red and green. And there was cold salmon and wee sandwiches you could eat with your fingers, and frosted grapes all sparkling with sugar. And Caroline wore a dress of wild silk with a great long train, and on her head was a diamond tiara that her father had given her for a wedding present, and she looked like a queen."
"Was she pretty?"
"Oh, Henry, all brides are beautiful."
"Was she as pretty as my mother?"
But Edie was not to be drawn. "She was good-looking in a different sort of way. Very tall, she was, with lovely black hair."
"Did you like her?"
"Of course 1 liked her. I wouldn't have gone to London to look after Alexa if 1 hadn't liked her."
"Tell me about that bit."
Edie set aside her pillowcases and started in on a blue-and-white-checked table-cloth.
"Well, it was just after your Grandfather Geordie died. 1 was still living at Balnaid, and working for your Granny Vi. It was just the two of us in the house, keeping each other company. We knew that Alexa was on the way, because Edmund had come up for his father's funeral and he told us then. 'Caroline is having a baby,' he told us, and it was a wonderful comfort to your Granny Vi to know that even if Geordie was with her no longer, there was a new wee life on the way. And then we heard that Caroline was looking for a Nanny to take care of the bairn. Your Granny Vi was up to high doh. The truth of the matter was that she couldn't bide the thought of some uninformed bisom having the care of her grandchild, filling her wee head with all the wrong ideas, and not taking the time to talk to the child, nor read to her. I never thought about going until your Granny Vi asked me to. I didn't want to leave Balnaid and Strathcroy. But… we talked it over and in the end decided that there was nothing else to be done. So I went to London…"
"I bet Daddy was pleased to see you."
"Och, yes, he was pleased enough. And at the end of the day, it was a mercy I went. Alexa was born safe and sound, but after the baby arrived, Caroline became very, very ill."
"Did she have measles?"
"No, it wasn't measles."
"Whooping cough?"
"No. It wasn't that sort of illness. It was more nervous. Postnatal depression they call it, and it's a horrible thing to see. She had to go to hospital for treatment, and when she was allowed home she was really not good for anything, let alone take care of a baby. But eventually she recovered a wee bit and her mother, Lady Cheriton, took her off on a cruise to a lovely island called Madeira. And after a month or two there, she was better again."
"Were you left all alone in London?"
"Not all alone. There was a nice lady who came in every day to clean the house, and then your father was in and out."
"Why didn't you come back to Scotland and stay with Vi?"
"There was a time when we thought we might. Just for a visit. It was the week of Lord and Lady Balmerino's wedding… only then of course he was Archie Blair, and such a handsome young officer. Caroline was still in Madeira and Edmund said we'd all come north together for the occasion and stay at Balnaid. Your Granny Vi was so excited when she heard the news that we were coming to visit. She got the cot down from the attic and washed the baby blankets and dusted up the old pram. And then Alexa started teething… she was only a wee thing and what a time she had of it. Crying all night and not a mortal thing I could do to quieten her. I think I went two weeks without a proper night's sleep, and in the end Edmund said he thought the long journey north would be too much for the pair of us. He was right, of course, but I could have cried from disappointment."
"And Vi must have been disappointed too."
"Yes, I think she was."
"Did Daddy come to the wedding?"
"Oh, yes, he came. He and Archie were old, old friends. He had to be there. But he came on his own."
She had finished the table-cloth. Now she was onto her best blouse, easing the point of the iron into the gathered bit on the shoulder. That looked even more difficult than ironing pillowcases.
"Tell me about the house in London."
"Oh, Henry, do you not weary of all these old tales?"
"I like hearing about the house."
"All right. It was in Kensington, in a row. Very tall and thin, and what a work. The kitchens in the basement and the nurseries right up at the top of the house. It seemed to me that I never stopped climbing stairs. But it was a beautiful house, filled with precious things. And there was always something going on-people calling, or dinner parties, and guests arriving through the front door in their fine clothes. Alexa and I used to sit on the turn of the stairs and watch it all through the bannisters."
"But nobody saw you."
"No. Nobody saw us. It was like playing hide-and-seek."
"And you used to go to Buckingham Palace…"
"Yes, to watch the Changing of the Guard. And sometimes we took a taxi to Regent's Park Zoo and looked at the lions. And when Alexa was old enough, I walked her to school and dancing class. Some of the other children were little Lords and Ladies, and what a toffee-nosed lot their Nannies were!"
Little Lords and Ladies and a house filled with precious things. Edie, Henry decided, had had some marvellous experiences. "Were you sad to leave London?"
"Oh, Henry, I was sad because it was a sad time, and the reason for leaving was so sad. A terrible tragedy. Just think, one man driving his car far too fast and without thinking of any other body on the road, and in a single instant Edmund had lost his wife and Alexa her mother. And poor Lady Cheriton her only child, her only daughter. Dead."