***Chapter 49***
***Old Friends and New Friends***
"This is all to go, Bob!"
Lord Arthur Maddocks waved his hand imperiously around the almost empty bedroom. The task shouldn't take the man very long. Clothes had already been cleared out of wardrobes and dressers; bed linen and curtains had been stripped away, and only a few knick-knacks remained. All that was required of the odd-job man was to throw those knick-knacks into a sack and deposit them with the household rubbish, due for collection later that morning. When Dora returned home for the summer holidays (her parents felt it would be more beneficial to her development if, like some boarders did, she remained at school during the Easter break) she would find her new bedroom, a much larger en-suite across the way, tastefully decorated and fitted out in a manner suited to a young lady of eight and not an eight-year-old child.
"All but the furniture," Arthur added gently. The poor fellow was simple-minded and misunderstandings had occasionally occurred when instructions hadn't been made crystal clear. "The furniture will be attended to later. Do you follow, old chap?"
Bob Fletcher, aka The Quiet Man, nodded enthusiastically, and several times, in acquiescence. Pointing at the two battered old wooden horse sculptures that stood either side of the window-sill, he tried to query "Horses?" but, frustratingly, only a vague guttural sound emitted from his throat. For some reason, he couldn't remember why, he thought they might be important to the child and he knew that she had done no packing of her own. But it was so difficult to explain anything when a fog shrouded his confused mind and words rarely came or, when and if they did, like a slow-moving train, they arrived long, long after the passengers had left the station.
A picture flashed into his memory. Jimmy, the old man, sitting on the door-step of his cottage in the bright afternoon sunshine, dipping a brush into a nearby pot to paint over the scratches of one of the wood horses; the little girl kneeling nearby on a garden mat, frowning in concentration as she carefully trowelled over a small vegetable patch. But how to tell Lord Maddocks what he meant?
Prudence peeked round the door.
"Ah, there you are, my sweet! I've taken it upon myself to cancel dinner, heart's dearest. We are invited to dine with Daphne and Richard tonight."
Whether anyone found it embarrassing or not, Lord and Lady Maddocks thought nothing of using terms of endearment for each other in front of their staff, and Prudence's lightened heart danced with happiness. Daphne had been only too glad to relinquish responsibility as Dora's "Nanny". Her divorce settlement from the Duke of Hunterwood was finalized now and there was a new man in her life. As she'd told her over the telephone, Prudence simply couldn't wait to catch up on her great friend's gossip.
Boarding school! It had been such a perfectly, perfectly splendid answer! Something they should perhaps have arranged long ago, but Jimmy had always looked after Dora and tutors taken care of her education, so not only had the question never arisen, but, even though neither Prudence nor Arthur liked children, a rather annoying child remained in their midst. Now, however, it was as though a breath of fresh air had finally blown through Saxe Coburg Mansion, clearing the debris and dust of despair in its wake!
Although it was January and the school year began in September, it was no problem enrolling young Miss Maddocks in Green Willows mid-term. Its hitherto bored-sounding secretary turned almost breathless with awe as soon as she heard the names Lord and Lady Maddocks. As did Dr Alicia Knight, the school's illustrious headmistress. Although, as an acclaimed author and expert on Victorian literature, she was a minor celebrity in her own right, and all her "gaaals" hailed from vastly wealthy backgrounds, Alicia would have jumped through hoops of fire to have this child a pupil. Green Willows' fees did not come cheap, but neither did the running of a public school, and its greatest rival, Tantigern House, counted the twin daughters of a global superstar among its latest intake. It would be a tremendous coup, to accept as a student, a child whose parents hobnobbed with prime ministers and presidents from all around the world.
As for Dora herself, she had been bribed with surprising ease. Only one subject seemed to capture her attention upon being presented with the school's prospectus, in the hope pictures of magnificent halls and young ladies learning the art of dance or to play piano would sway her in its favour. They had riding lessons at Green Willows; please, please, please could she?
So keen were they to encourage separation, and had Green Willows offered such a facility, her parents might well have agreed to lessons in lion taming on Mars. Remembering how Magic had thrown Prudence many years ago, however, they were still concerned about the possibility of accidents, but, happily, Green Willows' health and safety record proved second to none. One more important factor had influenced their choice of educational establishment: its strongly enforced policy of never allowing members of the public, and in particular journalists, within a ten-mile radius. A TV helicopter crew,that had taken aerial photographs of a European princess, had had such a massive lawsuit slammed against them that the station was forced to close down. As a result, the media licked its wounds, bandaged its badly burnt fingers and kept its distance.
Over time, Lord and Lady Maddocks had come to realise that Dora, who preferred the company of servants (and even horses! ) to her own class was never going to slot naturally into her role as heiress-to-be, as they'd fondly imagined when first they'd banned her from such a "dangerous" pursuit as horse-riding. But it would matter not not one iota, they agreed, if their odd little daughter spent the next few years getting soaked to the skin out riding in the foulest of weathers or pottering about in stables, with hair scraped back in riding hat and wearing the most unflattering of jodhpurs, if, like Bronte's Grace Poole, she were hidden away from view.
With the promise of a reward so dear to her heart, Dora had passed, and with flying colours, the hastily-arranged and necessary entrance examination - or, at least, most of it; she barely limped home in Mathematics, and then only after intense coaching from her maths tutor. And, perhaps I shouldn't tell you this, but it was a long time ago and Green Willows would scorn such practices nowadays, but a little tweaking of the test papers here and there did no harm.
Prudence arrived just in time to "hear" Bob Fletcher's "question" and glanced indifferently at the hired help, who stood waiting patiently for an answer, large sack in his hands. His slowness often irritated her.
"Oh, for Heaven's sake, Bob! Those beastly ornaments are of no consequence! Is that not so, darling?" She slipped her arm into her husband's.
"Of no consequence at all, my turtle dove," Arthur agreed, although how he knew this without once turning around, being far too busy gazing into his wife's eyes, must remain a mystery.
But surely, if the child kept them and the old man looked after them, they were of consequence? Still, what did he, with his feeble brain, know? Puzzled by the complicated ways of the world, The Quiet Man shrugged and threw the mementos of Beauty and Magic, so lovingly created by Davey and so treasured by Dora, into the rubbish, to be burnt to ashes.
Prudence gave a small sigh of happiness. Everything had fallen wonderfully into place. They need concern themselves no more with such tedious matters as enduring evening meals with their daughter or being embarrassed in company by her working class behaviour. Being with her own kind would ensure she soon forgot all this silly nonsense of wanting to be with commoners.
XXXXX
The Honourable Miss Dora Maddocks closed the door to the room she shared with her friends, Cleo and Arabella, put a letter from her father to one side and keenly ripped open the latest communication from Matthew. Mummy's and Daddy's letters were as pretentious as their telephone calls, and reminded her of how little they truly cared about her. Mathew's were full of fun and reminded her of how much she was loved by more simple folk.
She always would belong with those of a so-called lower social status, she thought, never dreaming how, in just a handful of weeks, everything was to change…