A Gathering Storm by Rachel Hore

Author:Rachel Hore [Hore, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781849832892
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2011-09-15T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Over the next fortnight Beatrice became a frequent visitor to the house in Queen’s Gate. Angie’s recovery was slow, and with her mother in such a fragile, nervous state, they needed her there. There was some talk of bringing Nanny up from Devon, but that meant Hetty would have to come, too, and Mr Wincanton declared that to be a bad idea whilst the bombing continued. Poor Hetty. Beatrice privately thought the girl, who must now be twelve, received little attention from her parents, but no one else in the household seemed to make anything of it. She was in a place of relative safety with her aunt – Oenone’s brother’s wife – and her cousins; Nanny was with her, and all her material and emotional needs were deemed to be supplied. What more could she ask of them? No, there was nothing Beatrice could usefully do about Hetty.

After spending the first two days in bed, Angie was judged well enough to be brought down to the drawing room, where she reclined in a nest of pillows on the sofa and complained to anyone who would listen. Reading tired her and made her head ache. Friends who telephoned or called to the house apparently tired her, too, and since they all wanted to talk about what she referred to as ‘The Event’, going over and over the names of those killed or injured in the blast and whose funeral had been most lavish, which depressed her, she told Peggy to turn them away.

Paradoxically, she welcomed Beatrice’s company. Because she had gone through the tragedy with her, Angie said that she understood. Beatrice learned not to refer to ‘The Event’ except obliquely, and instead they chatted about more cheerful things such as Beatrice’s engagement. Angie approved of Guy, whilst appreciating that she might not have seen him looking his best on the night of ‘The Event’. She got it into her head that he was right for Beatrice. ‘Very steady and clearly fond of you.’

‘Goodness, that does make him sound stodgy,’ Beatrice said, a little crossly, and couldn’t help thinking of Rafe, who Angie clearly had thought more interesting.

Rafe was another subject off-limits, she discovered. No one had heard from him or about him, and despite Michael Wincanton’s enquiries, no one learned any more. What Beatrice saw quite clearly, even if Angie didn’t, was that the girl was definitely transferring her affections to Rafe’s brother.

Gerald came often. Her first impressions of him were borne out in subsequent meetings. Taller and broader than his younger brother, he had none of Rafe’s quick energy, being rather more serious and cautious. He had a natural air of authority about him, and Beatrice wasn’t in the least surprised to hear that he was in line for promotion to Major. He seemed to be working on something that necessitated him remaining in the country, for there was never any talk of him leaving. The cautiousness was related to a stubborn streak, too. She saw it

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