‘There’s Dr Aldridge, ma’am.’ Sadie was peering out of the train window. ‘And he’s buttonholed one of the porters.’
The next few minutes were hectic but eventually the luggage was loaded on top of the cab William had waiting and the horse was clip-clopping its way through the now fast-falling snow. Sophy looked out at familiar landmarks. She had gone to see Dolly and Jim at Christmas, her arms full of presents, and had confided in the motherly Dolly her apprehension about the visit back to her roots. Dolly’s advice had been the usual mixture of homespun commonsense and optimism. ‘Blood’s thicker than water, lovey, and to my mind it’s a blessing you came across your cousin that day. I don’t know what you were running away from when you left the north and I don’t need to know, but you’re your own woman now. It won’t do no harm to lay a few ghosts in the long run, even if you’re a bit jittery. You go and have a nice time and see that little one. That’ll cheer you up.’
Dear Dolly. Sophy smiled to herself. There were some things that never changed, and Dolly was one of them. Every time she walked into that kitchen it was like stepping back thirteen years ago, and she would never forget the old couple’s kindness to a petrified young girl who hadn’t had a friend in the world.
Patience must have been waiting at the window because as soon as the cab drew up outside the imposing semi-detached house in Barnes View, she was on the doorstep, her face alight. It was a lovely welcome. The six-bedroomed house was also lovely. The garden – what Sophy could see of it under its mantle of white – was lovely, too. But baby Peter, he was exquisite. He had been asleep when she arrived, but as they were finishing the tour of the house he began to stir and Patience took her into the beautifully decorated nursery. With little ado, she whisked the baby out of his bassinet and plonked him straight into Sophy’s arms, taking her by surprise. She stared down into the tiny face looking up at her, wonder filling her heart as she saw the minute eyelashes, the little snub nose and blue-grey eyes. A small hand, complete with the tiniest fingernails imaginable plucked at the air for a moment, and then, like a ray of sunshine which brightened the whole room, the baby gave her a big toothless smile.
‘There,’ said Patience, pretending not to notice the tears in Sophy’s eyes, ‘he knows his Aunty Sophy already. He doesn’t smile for everyone, believe me.’
‘He’s utterly adorable, Patience, and so beautiful,’ said Sophy, her voice husky.
‘I know.’ Patience smiled happily. ‘I still don’t know how we managed to have such a pretty baby. If we are fortunate enough to have more, I hope they are as bonny, especially if we have a girl. I always thought it was so unfair I had three good-looking brothers, looking like I do.’ And then, as Sophy made to protest, Patience added, ‘It’s all right, Sophy. I don’t mind that I’m plain now, truly, because I know William doesn’t see me like that. You know, when I was a young girl and I realised for the first time what sort of a trick nature had played on me, I used to pray that my guardian angel – Father had always taught us that we each had a guardian angel who looked over us – would work a miracle and change me into a beauty while I slept. And each morning I woke up with my heart fluttering and looked in the mirror. I was so jealous of you, not just because you are so beautiful but because I knew everyone – everyone except Mother and Father, of course – preferred you to me. The boys never made a secret of it, and I knew Bridget and Kitty and our governess didn’t even like me. Looking back, I can see it wasn’t my appearance that was the problem.’ She grimaced. ‘I was a horrible little beast. And then came the day when Mother beat you half to death and I saw something of myself in her.’
‘Oh, Patience.’ Sophy didn’t know what to say.
‘It frightened me. Terrified me. And although I wouldn’t have wanted my moment of truth to come at the cost of you nearly dying, it was the lesson I needed. And then we went away to school and I discovered I liked you, but – but I didn’t know how to say it, I suppose. When you left after that last row with Mother I missed you terribly, and it was then I realised you’d become the sister I’d always wanted, but it was too late to tell you. And I didn’t think you’d have believed me anyway.’
Sophy smiled through her tears. ‘I believe you now.’
‘We were going to ask you together but I know William won’t mind; we want you to be Peter’s godmother. Will you, Sophy?’
‘Me?’ Sophy was astounded.
‘Will you? William’s best friend is going to be his godfather.’
‘But your parents? Your mother won’t stand for it.’