The Tuscan Child(96)

And so he waited impatiently for something to happen. In the middle of February he was taken to Civitavecchia harbour and on to an English ship bound for Portsmouth. The journey was a long and tedious one, dodging enemy ships and then battling gales in the Bay of Biscay. He was taken straight to hospital in Portsmouth where his leg was operated on. Again he wrote to his father and wife. And at the beginning of March he received an answer, but not from his family.

Dear Mr. Hugo,

I have taken the liberty of writing to you as there is not a family member at Langley at the moment to answer your letter.

May I say that I am so glad and relieved that you are safely back in England and not in some foreign hospital. I wanted you to be stronger and on the road to recovery before I shared the news with you. Your father died two months ago. His chest became progressively worse, and during the brutal cold in early January he caught pneumonia. I think the worry about having you reported missing contributed to his death. I am sorry he never lived to know that you were safe and coming home. So you are now officially Sir Hugo Langley, although I don’t suppose that brings you any comfort.

There is talk that the army regiment may be pulling out of Langley Hall at last. Thank God for that, although I fear they have made an awful mess of the place. It really does seem as though the war will soon be over. It hardly seems possible, does it, after so many years of hardship and worry?

I am going to see if you are allowed visitors, and if so may I take the liberty of coming to visit you? They are not restricting travel so much these days. I’ll bring you some good food. I expect you need building up after all that time hiding out with nothing to eat. Cook has done wonders with our limited rations plus what the estate brings in, although I’d truly be glad to see the end of rabbit pies.

Well, I won’t tire you anymore, but hope to visit you soon.

Yours truly,

Elsie Williams, housekeeper

Hugo folded the letter, his head a jumble of thoughts. He smiled fondly at memories of Mrs. Williams. When he’d been growing up she’d been Elsie, a new housemaid, a cheeky young girl who was kind to him after his mother died. Then, years later, the old housekeeper had retired and Elsie had taken her place. Always kind and cheerful, that was how he remembered her. Such a contrast from Soames, the butler—stiff, rigid, and humourless.

Then his thoughts turned to his father, and he wondered whether he felt any grief. His death was not unexpected after all, and his father had always been a remote sort of man, shying away from affection or any sort of closeness. Duty, honour, doing the right thing—they were what mattered to his father. And now he was gone. Hugo tried to picture himself as lord of the manor. Sir Hugo Langley. It seemed highly improbable. How Sofia would laugh, he thought. If only . . .

Elsie Williams came to see him a few days later. She still looked plump and cheerful, fresh-faced and young-looking for her age, as if the war had not affected her at all. She brought a hamper packed with good things: calf’s foot jelly, a game pie, homemade elderberry wine, and a jar of strawberry jam from last summer’s crop. She laughed when she held up this treasure. “We all saved our sugar rations for a month to make that,” she said. “My, did we have a bumper harvest last year. I helped Cook to hull all those strawberries. I’ve been helping her quite a lot recently since we’ve no kitchen maid. I never realised how much I enjoy cooking.”

“It’s very good of you, Elsie,” he said. “Although I must apologise. I should be calling you Mrs. Williams.”

“Only if you want me to call you Sir Hugo,” she replied. Then her face became sombre. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news about your father. In truth he had been going downhill for the past few years. And having his house occupied by a lot of louts really grieved him, too.”

“A lot of louts?”

“That army regiment. You should see what a mess they’ve made of the place. I think it almost broke your father’s heart. You know how proud he was of the house and the grounds.”

Hugo realised there was one subject they hadn’t broached. “And my wife and son? You haven’t even mentioned them.”

“That’s because they’ve been gone from the house for a while,” she said.

“Gone? Where?”

“I couldn’t tell you, sir. I know she has left you a letter, but I didn’t think it was my place to open it. She told your father she was going away, but he never told me where. Maybe she was nervous being close to the south coast when those doodlebugs and V-2s started coming over. She never looked happy and it was hard to please her.”

“And my son? Is he away at school?”

“No, sir. He was attending the village school until recently. Your father was most put out. He wanted Teddy to go to the same school that you were sent to, but Mrs. Langley wouldn’t hear of it. She said she’d been doing without a husband, she wasn’t going to do without a son as well.”

“I can understand that,” he said. “Oh well, when I finally get home I expect it will all be sorted out. And when the war ends, we can choose a school for Teddy then.”

“You really think it’s going to end soon?”

“I’m sure of it,” he said. “The Germans are retreating all over Europe. We’ve got them licked, Elsie. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Praise the Lord for that,” she said, “and for bringing you safely home. I was so worried about you, Mr. Hugo. When we got the telegram that you were missing, well, we feared the worst. And what good news when you finally wrote that you were alive.”