Not wishing to appear naive, Flora hid her confusion. ‘I . . . yes.’
‘Well, indeed, if anything could be worth leaving the beauty of the Lakes for, I could not think of a more interesting household to be part of! Now, I really must get on, for I too have to return to London tomorrow to see my poor ailing mama, and there is a lot still for me to do here before I leave. Please, drop your menagerie here in the next few days. If I am not back, Mr and Mrs Cannon, who live in the other wing of the farmhouse, will be happy to care for them. Rest assured they are aware that, in my house at least, the animals come first. Your pets will be cared for like . . . royalty.’ Miss Potter let out a further chuckle and showed Flora to the front door.
‘Goodbye, Miss Potter. I cannot thank you enough for your kindness.’
‘We Lake and animal lovers must stick together, mustn’t we? Goodbye, Miss MacNichol.’
14
The few days that remained at her childhood home flew by, and the misery in Flora’s heart deepened as she witnessed the family possessions being packed away. She was presented with a large trunk in which to stow away her personal belongings and treasures, which would then go with her parents to Scotland. As she laid out her silk-covered journals – a detailed record of her life here at Esthwaite – to wrap in brown paper, she couldn’t help but peer between the covers to read snippets of them, mourning all she was about to lose.
Her parents were so preoccupied that rarely did either throw her a kind word. Even though she had grown used to their manner, her sense of isolation grew apace and she thought she might even be relieved when the day came for her to move to London.
On top of all this, there’d been no word from Archie either, and Flora had decided that whatever he had said about trusting him, the memory of the time they had spent together was best packed away with the rest of her past. Given Aurelia’s obvious feelings for him, expressed in the letters she had written to Flora from High Weald, it was the only sensible thing to do. Not that the resolution helped much. She continued to think of him almost every single moment of the day.
Most painful of all was saying goodbye to her beloved animals as she arranged them in Miss Potter’s shed and instructed Mrs Cannon on their needs. The parting was made only slightly more bearable by seeing the delight of Ralph and Betsy, Mrs Cannon’s eldest children, who immediately picked up Maisie and Ethel – the two dormice – and promised they would care for them just as Flora had.
As for Panther, Sarah, who had refused to go up to the Highlands ‘due to all them mites and ticks’, would take him to live at the cosy cottage she shared with her mother in Far Sawrey. At least Flora was relieved that her animals were safe and secure, even if she was not.
On the morning of her departure to London, with a heart as heavy as the great boulder that sat on the shores of Esthwaite Water, Flora went downstairs to greet the Lakeland dawn for the final time.
Outside, the landscape had granted her a last wonderful memory. The autumn skies were lit with streaks of scarlet and purple and as she sat down on the boulder, the air was thick with a low mist. Savouring each trill of the dawn chorus, she took in a deep lungful of the fresh, pure air. ‘Goodbye,’ she breathed, closing her eyes like the click of a camera shutter to hold the image indelibly in her mind.
Back in her bedroom, Flora dressed hurriedly for the journey and, shrugging on her travelling cape, she called for Panther. Normally, he would emerge sleepily from under the bedcovers, stretching languidly, his amber eyes indicating irritation at being disturbed. Today, he did not appear, and having searched her bedroom thoroughly, Flora deduced that she must have left her door ajar earlier and Panther had followed her downstairs.
Tilly and Mrs Hillbeck were already busy in the kitchen.
‘Your mother has asked us to pack you a picnic. It’s a long journey to London,’ said Tilly, as she fastened the leather straps on the hamper.
‘Have you seen Panther?’ she asked them, looking under the table. ‘I’ve searched everywhere and I can’t find him. I must say goodbye . . .’
‘He canna have gone far, Miss Flora, I’m sure, but your mother is waiting for you by the door already. I’ll take a look for him, don’t you worry,’ Sarah said, appearing from the pantry.
‘Goodbye, Miss Flora, and good luck in that heathen city you’re going to. Rather you than me,’ sniffed Mrs Hillbeck. ‘I made you some currant pasties – I know how you love them.’
‘Thank you, and please promise me that you will look for Panther and write to tell me he’s safe?’
‘Of course we will, dear. Now you take care of yourself. We’ll miss you,’ Mrs Hillbeck added, a tear in her eye.
‘I will. Goodbye.’ Flora took one last desperate glance around the kitchen, then left to join her mother.
‘Flora, we must leave now or we shall be late for the train.’ Her mother stood regally in the hall, her hands tucked into a fur muff against the morning chill. Flora walked towards the door, followed by Sarah carrying the picnic hamper. ‘Say goodbye to your father. I will see you in the carriage.’
To her surprise, her father had come down the stairs to the entrance hall, leaning on his stick more heavily than usual.
‘Flora, my dear.’
‘Yes, Papa?’
‘I . . . well, the thing is that . . . I’m jolly sorry about how it all turned out.’
‘It isn’t your fault we’ve no money to keep the house, Papa.’
‘No, well . . .’ Alistair looked at his feet. ‘I wasn’t referring directly to that, but thank you anyway. I am sure you will write regularly to your mother, and I shall hear of your adventures. I wish you luck in your future. Goodbye, my dear.’
‘Thank you, Papa. Goodbye.’
Flora turned away and felt a sudden deep-seated sadness at the finality of her father’s parting words. Stepping into the carriage, she took one last glance at Esthwaite Hall. As they passed through the gates, she wondered if it would be the last time she ever saw it. Or her father.
Once settled in their first-class carriage for the long journey to London, Flora sat quietly, observing how the landscape soon changed from rough hills and valleys to an unfamiliar flatness, and inwardly mourning all she’d so recently lost. In contrast, as the miles slipped past and the train separated its occupants further from their home, Rose’s mood began to brighten.
‘Perhaps I should tell you a little about the Keppel household.’
‘Yes, Mama.’