‘I’d like that,’ I said.
After I’d served up breakfast and washed the dishes, we entrusted Rory with showing us around the gardens. He cycled along the hard, frosted pathways ahead of us, signing ‘slow coach’ to me if we lagged too far behind.
‘He’s a cute little boy, that one. And bright,’ my mother commented. ‘Not to mention very fond of you.’
‘I love him too. He’s so positive.’
‘He is. God bless him, I only hope life treats him kindly in the future.’
‘He has his family around him to protect him.’
‘Yes, he does. For now, at least,’ my mother added with a sad smile.
Later that afternoon, I asked Marguerite for the loan of her Fiat and drove my mother into Tenterden, where Orlando – who looked hungover too – was stacking books onto shelves.
‘Ah! The ladies of leisure deign to visit me in my humble abode. Welcome, Professor Gray. Perhaps I can now say a Yale professor of literature is my first customer? Now, I must first show you my wonderful first edition of Anna Karenina.’
‘Orlando, I told you last night, please call me “Sylvia”.’
As Orlando and my mother indulged their shared passion, I took over the shelf stacking, feeling rather like Rory as I struggled to understand what they were talking about.
‘Of course, the expert on early twentieth-century English literature is Star here.’ Orlando glanced over at me, sensitive enough to realise that I might be feeling left out. ‘Ask her anything about the Bloomsbury Set – in particular, High Weald’s ex-neighbour, our dear Vita Sackville-West, and her associated lovers. Which is ironic, given Lady Flora Vaughan’s own past.’
‘Star told me vaguely about the connection last night,’ my mother commented.
‘The next time you return to these shores, Miss Sylvia, you must read the journals in full. They are a fascinating glimpse into Edwardian England.’
‘Well, perhaps Star should edit them into a book. I’m sure the whole world would be fascinated by Flora’s story.’
‘I say! Miss Sylvia, that is an excellent idea. What with her in-depth knowledge of the literature of that period, plus her personal connection to Lady Flora, I can think of no one better qualified,’ Orlando agreed, and I felt two pairs of eyes upon me.
‘Maybe in time,’ I said with a shrug.
‘If you do, I’m sure that Yale University Press would be mighty interested in publishing it.’
‘As would a number of commercial publishers here too,’ countered Orlando. ‘The story has all the elements of what one might call a “bodice ripper”, never mind that it’s true!’
My mother glanced at her watch. ‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to get back to the house – my train to London leaves soon.’
Back at High Weald, my mother came down the stairs with her suitcase.
‘Mouse is giving you a lift to the station,’ I said.
‘Oh Star.’ She took me in her arms and held me tightly. ‘Please keep in touch with me as often as you can manage. Otherwise I might begin to think I dreamt all this. You have all my numbers? And my email?’
‘I do, yes.’
A horn beeped from outside.
‘Right, I’m going to have to say goodbye. But the moment I get home, we’re planning another trip. Either you come to me in Connecticut and meet your half-brothers and sister, or I return here to you, yes?’
‘I’d like that.’
My mother gave me a big hug, then blew me a kiss as she walked out of the door, and I watched her get into the Land Rover beside Mouse. As the car drove off, I felt suddenly bereft without her. This woman seemed to know me so intimately – in a way that nobody else did – whereas I was only just getting to know her.
Later, after Rory had gone to bed, I served up the bubble and squeak I’d knocked together from the leftovers and we ate in comfortable silence, all of us exhausted from the past two days. Orlando excused himself and ambled off to bed, while Mouse went upstairs to take a look at a leak that Marguerite had discovered on her bedroom ceiling.
‘And currently collecting in a saucepan,’ she sighed as she helped clear the table. ‘I’m back off bright and early to France tomorrow morning, by the way. Mouse will give you some cash for any groceries you need while I’m gone.’
‘When will you be back?’
‘Never, if I have my way, but there we are. God, how I hate this house. It’s like caring for an ancient, ailing relative who you know is beyond any help.’ Having dried off a plate, Marguerite reached for her Gitanes, lit one and flopped into a chair. ‘I was saying to Mouse that I really ought to consider selling it. I know it’s meant to go to Rory, but I’m sure there’s some City boy and his aspirational wife who’d love to chuck their millions at a country pad like this. At least Mouse has said he and Orlando will throw some money my way from the proceeds of the bookshop. No less than I deserve under the circumstances,’ she added darkly.
‘Rory’s happy here.’
‘Yes, he is, because it’s become his home. Ironic, really . . .’
Her eyes fled to the window and she sighed heavily, releasing a stream of smoke. ‘Anyway, I’m out of here tomorrow for a while and a lot of that is thanks to you, Star. Seriously, you’ve stabilised the house and its inhabitants. Especially Mouse.’
‘I don’t think so,’ I mumbled.
‘You didn’t know him before your arrival. He’s different, Star, and at least that’s given me hope that things can change in the future. He’s actually making an effort with Rory, which in my eyes is a miracle. And even Orlando has become less detached from the real world since you arrived in his life. I’ve often wondered whether he’s gay, but I’ve never seen him with anyone, male or female. My guess is that he’s asexual. What do you think?’
‘I think he’s in love with his books. And they are all he needs,’ I said, not comfortable with discussing my employer’s sexuality.
‘You know what? I think you’re absolutely spot on.’ Marguerite smiled.
‘Rory will miss you when you’re gone,’ I offered, wanting to return the conversation to safer territory.
‘And I’ll miss him, but the good news is, he’s always been used to new people taking care of him. He had a flood of nannies before I decided it was time to take over. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll leave you to it.’ She stood up and stubbed out her cigarette in the hapless cactus pot. ‘Here’s a tip: it’s wonderful being in love. It lights us all up. Night, Star.’ With that, she blew me a kiss and left me with my hands in the soapsuds, my head spinning.
Once I’d finished clearing up, I wandered along the corridor towards the sitting room with a cup of hot chocolate, feeling I needed some time to catch my breath.
‘Hi.’ Mouse walked in just as I’d sat down.
‘Hi.’