Page 162 of The Gathering Storm

Inside Morland Place it was rather like a kicked ant’s nest, with people dashing about, apparently trying to save precious things and carry them out of the house or down to the cellars, while one or two of the maids were huddling, wide-eyed with fear, unable to do anything useful. Oxton, the under-butler, rushed at Lennie with evident relief, saying that it was Barlow’s afternoon off and he had gone into York. Lennie took charge and was able to bring order quite quickly by assuring everyone that it wasn’t a bomb, that the war hadn’t started, and that the Germans weren’t coming. He told everyone to stop moving things until he’d seen the damage, compelled Oxton to accompany him, and walked calmly through the staircase hall and to the chapel.

As soon as he opened the door, a cloud of dust billowed out, and it was a few moments before it had settled enough to see anything. Then he could see a patch of daylight above where there shouldn’t have been one – a hole in the roof. At first it seemed shocking: the air was full of dust, there was a litter of wood splinters and split panels, broken slates, twisted bits of lead and lumps of plaster and stone. The impression was of devastation. But as he looked more carefully, he could see that most of the damage was to the Lady Chapel, where a substantial beam had come down right on the Lady altar, and was lying across it with the far end resting on the marble memorial to Eleanor and Robert Morland. There were no windows on the moat side of the chapel, so fortunately none of the glass had been broken. They had got off pretty lightly, he thought.

He backed out, closing the door. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘No-one is to go in for the time being. Can this door be locked? Very well, do it, and bring me the key. And let’s get someone here right away to put a tarpaulin over that hole in the roof, in case it rains.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And fetch the estate carpenter as soon as possible to look at the damage.’

He left Oxton to find the key to the chapel door and went back to the Great Hall, to reassure everyone that the damage was repairable. ‘These old places were built to stand up to cannon-fire,’ he reminded them. ‘There’s no danger it’s going to fall down, so you can get back to your work.’

As the door to Molly’s flat was opened by the maid, Clara, Charlotte saw trunks and cases in the hall, and had an attack of déjà vu that made her feel slightly sick.

Molly appeared behind Clara, and beamed a welcome. ‘Hel-lo! What an unexpected surprise!’ She spotted the bag. ‘Have you come to stay?’

‘What’s happening?’ Charlotte asked. ‘Are you going away?’

‘The children are. They’re going on a lovely, lovely holiday in the country!’ Charlotte blinked in surprise, and Molly said, ‘I’m practising my jolly-and-bright tones for tomorrow because we don’t want any tears. Emma and Kit are taking their two down to Walcote and they’re calling here tomorrow to take my two with them. Vivian’s pretty sure the war’s going to start within weeks, and it’s as well to get them settled before the balloon goes up.’

‘You’re leaving London for the duration?’

‘No, no, just the children. You can’t think we’d want to miss all this! But come into the drawing-room – no need to stand in the hall like a visitor. Are you staying for dinner? Vivian is dining at his club this evening, so it’s just me. Mrs Munday will be glad to do something more than an omelette on a tray, which was what I ordered, and which she thinks an insult to her art. Clara, tell Mrs Munday to rustle up dinner for Lady Launde and me for half past seven. And bring the cocktail tray.’

‘I thought Emma and Kit were in Cannes,’ Charlotte said, seeing that Molly had realised there were secrets to be told and was filling in time with light conversation until they were properly alone.

‘They were. They came back this morning. They said everybody was in Cannes this year. Marlene Dietrich, Delly Cavendish, the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, poor Ena Spain, Ambassador Kennedy and his vast brood. Did you know Billy Hartington is courting one of his daughters – Kathleen? Apparently, it’s quite serious. Of course, lots of upper-class boys are marrying American girls these days, and she seems a nice enough little thing. Wholesome and friendly. The Devonshires are putting a brave face on it, but they can’t much relish having Mr and Mrs Kennedy as in-laws.’

‘Are they going to stay down at Walcote – Emma and Kit?’ Charlotte asked.

‘I’m not sure. Emma was a bit mysterious about it on the phone. Cocktail?’

The maid put down the tray and departed, and as the door clicked softly closed behind her, Molly said, ‘Now, do you want to tell me what’s up?’

She mixed martinis while Charlotte told her the story, then put a glass into her hand and said, ‘Oh, Charlotte, I’m so sorry. Is it really not mendable?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Charlotte said. ‘I know so, really. It hasn’t been working for a long time. I feel as if it’s all been an illusion, like a magician’s act at the music hall, and everyone knew it but me.’

‘And he’s really selling the house?’

‘Yes. Well, as he pointed out, we haven’t been there for long, so it’s not as if I’ve put any real effort into making it a home.’

‘Well, you must come and live here,’ Molly said firmly. ‘The spare room is comfortable, and you can have the children’s bathroom to yourself, so it will be like a little suite for you.’

Charlotte’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Thank you. You’re so kind.’

‘Nonsense. It’s pure selfishness – I shall be miserable without the children, so you’ll cheer me up. What will you do, d’you think? Get a job?’

‘I’ll certainly want to do something,’ Charlotte said. ‘I thought of joining one of the services – the ATS, perhaps, or the Wrens.’

‘No, dear, don’t do that. All the other girls will be so much younger than you, it will make you feel lonelier. There’ll be plenty of civilian jobs, just as important to the war effort. Vivian and I will find the right thing for you. And you can help me at Dolphin until you find your niche.’

At breakfast the next morning, the children were very bright-eyed. ‘Auntie Charlotte, Esmond and me are going to live in the country, with Alethea and Electra,’ eight-year-old Angelica said.

‘It’s Esmond and I,’ her brother corrected sternly.

‘That’s what I said.’ Angelica asserted. ‘We have to go to the country because of the dirty Huns.’

‘Angelica! Who told you that?’ Molly said.