LOOK AT THE TWO OF US
Another story about the the heir to the Earl of Charlbury.
The song that goes with this story is :-
For All We Know ( Love, Look at the two of us, the Carpenters version)
Love, look at the two of us
Strangers in many ways
We've got a lifetime to share
So much to say,
And as we go from day to day ,
I'll feel you close to me ,
But time alone will tell.
Let's take a lifetime to say
I knew you well,
But only time alone will tell us so
And love will grow
For all we know.
._
LOOK AT THE TWO OF US
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The passage at Hazlington that runs alongside the kitchen has a warren of smallish rooms off it. The butler's room, the housekeeper's room, the pantry, the china room, the gun room, the flower room, the boot room. The boot room and the gun room are still in use, though there are only three rifles, two shotguns and a couple of pistols locked away in the gun cabinet; the old racks around the walls stand empty. My grandfather had sold the last pair of Purdeys to help with Death Duties. The boot room now only contains a small assortment of Wellies and a couple of old worn Barbour jackets and caps. Of the other rooms, three have been converted to other uses; the others are just remainders of a grandeur long gone.
Our old lady's office used to be the housekeeper's room, light and bright, two desks, three computers, several phones including the 'red' one, files and boxes.
Next door is the snug. This is the room we used when we were young, to be near to Mum when she was working, Small and shabby, the same scruffy sofas, a large square table,ink and paint stained, a TV, dvd player and cd player that we used then. Shelves around the room filled with books, DVDs, CDs and children's games. Rarely used now.
My office is next to the snug. Once the butler's room, officially now, it is the estate manager's office. I suppose that's me, anyway I am the only one that uses it. it contains a battered desk and chair with a desktop PC, two filing cabinets, and box files upon files fill the shelves that run around the room. On an equally battered side table, my laptop, and I-pad sit next to a tin tray holding a kettle, a jar of instant coffee, milk, sugar, a pot and two mugs. A small ancient safe stands in a corner. Two smallish casement windows and a half glazed door give out over the courtyard to the now empty stables. Dad's beloved Charlie is out to stud now and our horses are at the stables on the other side of the village.
I stood, my elbow resting on the mantelpiece and watched my father sitting at my desk signing the papers I had put before him.
Petruchio Isambard Edward Crick, 16th Earlof Charlbury. Tall, lean, his thick curly hair now well salted with silver.
He is a handsome old devil.
I suppose I shouldn't say that as we, my brothers and I, are said to resemble him.
Sounds too much like blowing your own trumpet.
I'm Rupert Edward Isambard Crick, 17th Viscount Hazlington, heir to the Earldom of Charlbury, and the Manor of Hazlington, its surrounding hundreds of acres of land and its village and surrounding tenanted farms.
I was going through the estate accounts with him before they went to the accountants in Charlbury to be prepared for the Inland Revenue.
He is useless with money, and accounts send him into a blind fury, so I have run the estate, the tenant farms and forestry since I graduated from the Royal University of Agriculture. Well, really, before then. I began working with Mr Matthews when he first started talking of retirement when I was about sixteen and still in school,but even before then nothing gave me more pleasure than a day with Dad and Mr. Matthews in Hazlington woods. Mr Matthews had been estate manager since Mum and Dad were married, and before him, his family had worked at Hazlington forever.
"Well, that's it?" He straightened the sheaf of papers and pushed them across the desk.
I took them from him and presented him with another bundle.
"No, but these are the last. Same as the others. Signature on the first page, initial others to the last page and sign again."
I clipped them together, put them in the file box and that into the bankers box on the table beside me to take into Charlbury in the morning.
"You were late getting back last night." my old man said.
We had all been up in town on Thursday for Mum and Dad's anniversary; they had come home to Hazlington,Lexi and Pete had gone back to Oxford and Mike to rejoin the RSC tour, but I had stayed in town for a few days. I told Dad I would be back at Hazlington on Saturday night.
"Mmm? Oh, yes, we went to the National to see the Stoppard revival. We had a meal afterwards, before I started back."
" Hhmm. Who's we?"
"Oh, just a mate."
" Your Mum and I went to see 'Arcadia' last week. The little Redmayne girl, isn't it ? She was very good. We enjoyed it. Of course, we had seen it the first time around. Not together, of course; we hadn't met then."
"Coffee?"
I made a pot while he finished the papers. I poured it and put a mug on the desk in front of him and leaned against the mantelpiece, holding my mug in my hand.
"Finished?" he asked.
"Mmm. No more signing. I want to show you these. The official confirmation that the mortgage is paid off."
"Complete? Everything paid off? All repairs finished?" The delight was clear in his voice
I nodded.
He sat looking at them, a small smile of satisfaction on his face, then handed them back to me.
"And these." These were two large pieces of old parchment with ribbon and heavy red seals. "The deeds of Hazlington. The bank has returned them to us."
"First time in nearly eightfive years. Completely debt free."
The emotion showed in the gruffness of his voice as he studied them.
"Where do you want them?"
I put them in the little safe that stood open in the corner. He picked up his coffee and sat back with his feet up on the desk.
"Um... well, there is something I wanted to discuss with you. I would like to take out another loan on the estate. A smaller one."
"What for?"
I cleared my throat.
"You know the pair of cottages beyond the kitchen garden? I would like to do something with them . . . and the old barns. . .
"Why? They are o.k, aren't they? I thought we had put them in a safe state of repair?"
He blew into his coffee and watched me through the steam.
"Yes, yes, but I thought, um, … perhaps we could turn the barns into studios."
These were two pairs of 16th century of brick, lathe and plaster barns on the far side of the stables; these were covered by the Heritage laws so we could alter the inside of them as long as we didn't alter their appearance or structure.
He raised his eyebrows.
"What would you do with studios? Turn them into an art colony? No, no, who is going to come out here? And anyway, I don't know that I would want something like that, here. It is not as though we need the money."
"I thought it might be an idea." I shrugged. " But I would like to renovate the cottages. Knock them into one, take down a few walls, new kitchen, bathroom. They could be made into a nice house. One of us could live there.
"Your brothers are not likely to want to live there."
" Maybe not them. I would."
"You! What for ? You live here."
I shifted uneasily.
"I might want a place of my own."
"Whatever for? You've got the run of this mother and I are hardly here. It seems like spending money unnecessarily to me. And we've only just cleared our debts."
"I could get married."
"Get married?" he gave a little hiccup of a laugh. "Who to? You don't know anybody. It is not as though you've even had a girlfriend. "
I didn't answer.
He looked across at me, frowning, studying me over his mug.
"You're serious?" His tone was incredulous.
"Yes, I'm serious. I thought I might probably get married late this summer."
"Who to, for God's sake?" his voice was a little more than irritated.
"There's someone..."
"Someone you've just met… ?" he interrupted, his voice a good sign.
"What you mean is you 've met some little tart and you've got the hots for her."
I took a deep breath. Keep calm!
" You don't have to get married to have a you've got a girl, just shag her.
Or...
Or is that it? She won't come across without a ring?" He snorted contemptuously. "Anyway, you are too young, you're only 22."
"I'm twenty three, and I intend to get married."
" No! You will not! I won't allow you." He ground it out heatedly
"I don't see how you can stop me; I am of age. I don't need permission! Yours or anyone else's."
" You've told her about your trust funds. Or is it the title? She knows who you are? She's got her eye on the main chance."
"Oh! For God's sake, who cares about titles these days? You never did!"
"Anybody who hasn't got one, that's who cares. Then there's the house- and the money."
He was beginning to shout and fury was filling his voice.
"Let's see what your mother as to say about this."
He swung his feet off the desk and went to the door. "Kate! Kate!"
Mum was doing her Red Boxes in her office down the passage.
"What ?" She shouted back.
"Come here! I want you!"
He sat back down and swiveled his chair back and fore, seething.
My father and mother, and Lexi, have the hottest and fastest tempers of anyone I know.
My brothers and I have always been very easy going. It takes a lot for us to lose our tempers but I could feel mine building up now.
"I want to marry her."
"I will not let you get married at your age."
"You cannot prevent me."
"No? You defy me in this and you'll see what I can and can't do!. You'll be out of here so fast, your head will spin. No job, no cash, nowhere to live. Let's see if she fancies you then!
How will you manage then?"
I straightened up and turning, looked slowly around me; at the boxes, files, the computer whirring softly.
"I think I would manage very well, I could get a job anywhere." I said calmly and evenly. I knew he didn't mean it; that it was all hot air, but it hurt and I wanted to hit back.
"And, as you reminded me, I have my trust funds. The question is, how would you manage without me?"
He began to roar. "You cheeky little sod..." he spluttered. "Kate!"
"I am getting married and you can like it or not."
"I am here."
We hadn't heard her arrive at the door.
"If you marry some little trollop, I. . . or? You've got her up the duff and she's got you by the short and curlies."
I swept my mug of coffee off the mantelpiece and threw it with all my strength at him. It narrowly missed him and smashed on the wall behind him, the hot coffee running down it.
We all stared at it.
There was an appalled silence.
I don't know which of us was most shocked. Him, Mum or me.
"I'm here "she said again. "What's going on?"
Dad started. "You'd better speak to your son." The words coming out fast and furious.
"Sit down Piers."
He continued to talk over both of us.
"Piers!"
She turned to me "What have you done? I know you have done something. You are always my son when you have done something."
There was amusement in her voice.
"I asked Dad.."
"This cheeky little sod.."
"One at a time! Piers, you be quiet. Now Rupert, you tell me what is going on."
She sat on the edge of the desk and I leaned against the mantelpiece again. I was shaking a bit. I had never done anything like that in my life.
"Kate..."
"Piers!" She held up her hand.
"I told Dad that I wanted to get married. He said he wouldn't allow me. I reminded him I was of age and he was offensive, very offensive about. . .about. . ."
"Kate, he's too young; we even don't know who this girl is."
"We don't all want to be middle aged when we get married and you don't need know who she is." I snarled. He held his head in his hands and rubbed his face, his hair.
"I didn't get married until I was thirty-eight because I didn't meet anyone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with till then." he said, softer now.
"Well, I have!"
"At twenty three?" the scorn in his voice was searing.
"Tania Sheringham?" Mum asked softly.
We both turned, surprised.
"You knew? How?" I asked
" I saw how you were together at Annabel's."
" You knew, Kate? You knew and you didn't tell me? "
" Well, I didn't know he wanted to get married, but I knew they were in love. I could see It. He is right, Piers. He is old enough to get married if he wants and he does not need our permission."
The house phone on the wall beside me rang.
I answered it briefly.
"Mrs Matthews says lunch is on the table and will get cold if we don't come right away."
"Then we'd better sit down before she gets cross." Mum said.
We sat in silence at the dining table. Dad tucked into his, he always has a good appetite, no matter what is going on; Mum ate hers more slowly. I didn't want anything and eventually I got up.
"Excuse me. I have finished."
I walked to the door.
"Rupert!" Mum said.
"I'm going out for a while."
"Rupert, we have to talk about this." Dad said quietly.
"Not now."
"Will you be back for dinner?" Mum said.
"I don't know."
'~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I pulled into the Heston service station, parked and texted her.
'Where r u?'
'Mum's'
' Boltons?'
The Boltons is a pair of curved terraces of big white Edwardian houses set around their private communal oval garden, in an exclusive part of Chelsea. Tania's mum had married big money indeed.
Sunday afternoon, no traffic until much later: I could drive straight through town.
' I'll b there 20 mins. B outside.'
She was waiting in the porch when I arrived.
She ran down the steps to the gate and crossed the road.
"Get In." I said.
"Something wrong, Haz?"
I shook my head and drove around the gardens until we were on the far side. I pulled up and parked.
"Is that my Guernsey?"I asked, though I wasn't really bothered.
She smiled, unclicking her belt and shifting to sit on one foot so that she could turn and look me.
"Yes, but don't think you're going to get it back. Now, what's up?"
I leaned back in my seat and my arms braced straight against the steering wheel. Without looking at her, I said "Will you marry me, Tan?"
"I thought you'd never ask." the smile now in her voice.
"Does that mean yes?"
"Of ? Tomorrow? "
"I'm serious."
"So am I. I'll marry you whenever you want. Did you really think you were going to get away ?"
There it was, that little gurgle of laughter that was so much a part of her.
Things around me lightened a little.
" I told my old man we were getting married in the summer and we rowed about it."
She leaned towards me and twisted her fingers around my hair.
"Why did you row about it?"
"He said I was too young. I threw a cup of coffee at him."
"Oh! Is that all? That's an everyday occurrence in our house."
She kissed the little hollow just behind my ear.
"Don't worry about it, Roopy. You're only upset because you never fight with him."
"Who says I'm upset?"
She smiled again and rubbed her nose against my ear.
I started up the car.
"Do your belt up."
"Where are we going now?"
"Is your dad home?"
"Yep! He can't go too far. Honey's ready to drop any day."
Honey was her father's young wife, about to have her third baby in as many years.
And God, yes! It was her real name.
" I am going to ask for his permission "
"Why? You don't have to do all that asking for my hand rubbish."
"Yes I do! If you just tell him like I did, you might get what I got from my old man. I want to be there if you do. Anyway, we are going to do everything the right way... asking your dad, buying you an engagement ring, an announcement in the Times. . ."
She gurgled her laugh that enchanted me.
"You are an old romantic."
" That's just the way it's done. Just making sure you can't get away."
Sir Richard Sheringham answered the door of his Belgravia house. His famous fair curls and good looks were undimmed by the chocolate, drool and unidentifiable grunge smeared over him by the babe in his arms and the toddler draped around his legs.
"What do you want ?" he said."Honey's having a lie down."
"That's OK." Tania said cheerfully. "We didn't come to see her."
I knew Tania liked her stepmother, which was surprising considering that Honey was only three years older than she was.
He led the way to the drawing room, a beautiful antiques filled room, whose elegant lines were not at all marred by the baby bottles, feeding cups, packets of disposable nappies and numerous toys strewn everywhere. A 60 ins tv blared out un-noticed above the Adam fireplace.
He sat down, his infants crawling over him.
"Well, what do you want? Money? You're not getting any. And who's this ?" jerking his head at me.
"You can stick your money. I've got my own. And this is Rupert. He's come to see you, though God knows why, you cantankerous old bugger."
He hadn't asked us to sit down, so I was still standing inside the doorway. The toddler was bawling something and the baby was starting to whimper, and Tania and her father continued to yell at each other over the racket. I stood stunned by it.
"Oh Christ! Orlando wants to pee. Here, have the baby a sec. while I see to him."
Orlando...Orlando? God! Although I suppose it proved that he didn't single out his older children for torment.
He shoved the screaming baby at Tania who promptly passed it at arms' length on to me.
"There's a box of baby tissues there on the sofa." her dad called over his shoulder.
I sat down, holding it on my lap and looked at the little face, purple with rage, drowned with tears and smeared with snot,chocolate and God knows what else. I pulled a wet wipe out of the box and wiped first the little one's hands, then its face. Shocked into silence by the attention, the infant stared balefully at me. I thought I'd try smiling. To my absolute astonishment, it smiled back, an enchanting one toothed smile.
"Hello there. Who are you?"
It responded by bouncing up and down in my arms.
"That is Rosalind. Be careful! She has a habit of piddling or pooing or spewing on anybody." her big sister said.
"I think she's adorable, aren't you, baby?"
" Good! You managed to shut her up. You can come again." her father came in, followed by Orlando.
"What do you want, by the way?"
I stood, still holding Rosalind.
"Um, um, I want to ask if I may have your daughter 's hand in marriage. . ."my voice trailed away.
"Of course you may, dear boy, but I think she is a little young for you yet."
Confused by this, I looked at Tania for enlightenment but she was as confused as me.
At first!
"Don't be such an idiot, Daddy. He means me."
"You! Why would he want to marry you? You're a bloody pain in the arse. Did you tell him you had money? If you did, believe me, your prize money won't last long. And you won't get any more from me."
With that, they began to hurl a torrent of abuse at each other.
No wonder she wasn't fazed by my fight with my old man. No wonder she laughed at my offer to defend her against her father.
Suddenly a whirlwind brushed past me pulling the baby out of my arms.
Not a whirlwind, a ship. A galleon in full sail.
"That is enough, Rich!" A tiny, childlike voice came from it.
Silence.
"Honey, you don't know what is going on."
"I know that you woke me up."
Honey.
Rose petal skin, curls as fair and soft as her husband's, huge dark blue eyes, as pretty as a picture. She looked as if she should be still in school except I have never seen anybody with such a big belly in my life. She must be carrying sextuplets.
"This moron thinks I will let him marry my daughter. She wins a bit of money and already there is someone to help her spend it. If she thinks I will allow her to marry some money grabbing lout. . '
Battle broke out again between Tania and her father.
"Quiet! Both of you." Again the little girly voice stopped them.
Tania said, subdued "He's not a money grabbing lout."
"How do you know? "
"He's got money of his own."
"Is that what he told you? You shouldn't get taken in by a pretty face. I thought I'd taught you that!"
"I don't need you to tell me that. I'm perfectly well aware of it. I've only got to look at you."
"Rich, I do not think he needs her money. Don't you know who he is? Unless I am very much mistaken, he is one of the Prime Minister's sons. Aren't you ?"
She turned to me. She may be young, look like a dumb blonde and have a babyish voice, but there was no question who was in charge in this house.
"If you had waited, Daddy, I would have introduced him. This is Rupert Crick, Viscount Hazlington, heir to the Earl of Charlbury, eldest son of the Prime Minister and I am going to marry him."
"I don't care who he is, you are too young and so is he, by the looks of him. Not up the spout, are you?"
"DA-A-ADDY. No, I'm not. I am going to marry him!"
"Why?"
As I stood in the middle of all this racket, the baby in Honey's arms reached out and maneouvred herself back into my arms and patted my face for attention.
"Rich, you haven't a leg to stand on. She is six months older than I was when I married you."
.
We got in the car and looked at each other. Tania was smiling. She seemed almost exhilarated by the fight with her father.
"Well, that's sorted. We'll tell Mum when she gets back from Gran'pa's; then all we have to do is decide when and where."
"My family, except Mum and Dad, have always got married in Hazlington village church. I would like that too. What do you think?"
" You are a Romantic. Yeah." She said slowly." Yeah, I think I would like it too. You know, I think I want everything, Roop. A Big Do. You ,me, bridesmaids, a big meringue of a dress, flowers, a choir and guests in big hats and morning suits."
She looked at me a little anxiously.
"'Will you be O.K? You know … speeches and that?"
I smiled "I'll cope. I think I've got more to worry about. . . my old man turning up in his makeup and high heeled boots. Tan, we haven't talked about it yet, but we will have babies, won't we?"
A soft little smile curled her lips.
"Rozzy really hooked you, didn't she? Yes, lots of them; if that's what you want."
My old man had told us how, as the only child of an only child,he had found Hazlington was so quiet and empty, and how we siblings had filled and warmed the old house.
"Hazlington was made for a family, for children." he had said.
Yes, I did want it. I wanted it very much.I wanted children at Hazlington, to have what we, me and my brothers and Lexi had had. A gloriously happy childhood, in the old house, in its gardens, in its woods.
Yes! Tan and me, we would fill Hazlington with them again .
.
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