Виктория Холт: The Judas kiss

Even Francine seemed subdued, although she said afterwards that she was too hungry to want to argue with that dreadful old man and all she could think of was the food. Besides she had an idea that he might have some notion that little children should be sent to bed without their supper if they were recalcitrant, so she was playing it carefully ... just at first.

"Just at first!" That became our watchword in those early days. We would endure it until we discovered how we could escape from it. "But first," said Francine, "we must discover the lie of the land."

So on that first night we lay there silently for a while and then we went over the events of the day, recalling every detail of our encounter with our grandfather.

"He is the most horrible old man I ever met," said Francine. "I hated him from the moment I saw him. I'm not surprised Father said it was a prison and he escaped from it. We shall escape in time, Pippa."

Then she talked about the house. "What a place to explore! And just think, our ancestors lived there for hundreds of years. That's something to be proud of, Pippa. We've got to find a way of showing the old man that we don't think he is God and if he were I'd be an atheist. He is not the least interested in us. He is just doing his duty. If there is anything I could hate more than that old man it's being a duty to somebody."

"Well," I reminded her, "you've got both your worst hates under one roof."

That made us laugh. How thankful I was then for Francine ... as never before. I went to sleep thinking that while we were together, nothing was so bad.

The next day we made our discoveries. Hot water was brought by a maid. We were both asleep when it arrived as we had lain awake until late talking. That was when we first saw Daisy.

She was standing between our beds and laughing. I sat up with a start at the same time that Francine did. The realization of where we were came flooding over us and what struck us forcibly was that we were looking at someone who was actually laughing.

"You are a couple of sleepy 'eads," she said.

"Who are you?" asked Francine.

"I'm Daisy," she answered. "Under housemaid. I've been sent up with your wash water."

"Thank you," said Francine and she added in a tone of wonder, "You sound very cheerful."

"Bless you, Miss, ain't no sense in being aught else ... even in this 'ouse where a smile is thought to be a step along the road to 'ell."

"Daisy," said Francine, sitting up and shaking her fair curls out of her eyes, "how long have you been here?"

"Six months and it seems like twenty. I'll be moving on as soon as my luck turns. My, you're pretty."

"Thank you," said Francine.

"It won't be liked—not in this 'ouse. I'm said to be on the flighty side myself."

"Are you?" asked Francine.

Daisy gave a very pronounced wink which made us laugh.

"I'll tell you one thing," she said, "here's one who's glad you've come. Liven this old place up a bit. I'll tell you something else, there's more fun to be had in the old bone-yard than here." She laughed as though something struck her as very funny. "Yes, 'strue. There's a whole lot of fun to be had in the aforementioned place—that's if you haven't gone there to bury a loved one. Well, there's the living to think of, I always say. The dead has gone and none the worse they'll be thought of for having a bit of fun when they was alive."

This was an extraordinary conversation and Daisy herself seemed to realize it, for she brought it to an abrupt conclusion by saying, "Better look smart. The master don't like latecomers. And breakfast is at eight."

She went out, turning at the door to give us the benefit of that amazing wink."

"I like her," said Francine. "Daisy! I must say I'm surprised to find there is someone in this house whom we can like."

"It seems a good omen," I commented.

Francine laughed. "Come on, get dressed. We have to be at breakfast soon. Remember, our sainted grandfather does not like to be kept waiting. Moreover, he won't tolerate it. I wonder what today will bring forth."

"Let's wait and see."

"A very profound remark, dear sister, because there is simply nothing else we can possibly do."

Francine was back to her old self and that was comforting.

Breakfast was like a repetition of the previous meal with different food. There was plenty of that, which must be because, in spite of his saintliness, Grandfather liked his food. When we arrived he gave us a nod and as there were no complaints, I gathered we were not even a fraction of a second late. Grace was said at some length and then we were allowed to help ourselves from the sideboard after Grandfather and Aunt Grace had done so. There was sizzling bacon, devilled kidneys and eggs in various forms. How different from the fruit and brioche we had had on the island, rising when the mood took us and helping ourselves to whatever there was to eat, sometimes alone, sometimes together, while our father had often worked through the night in the studio to finish some masterpiece and would sleep long into the next day because of it!

This was very different. Here everything ran to order.

As he tackled his food with appreciative gusto, our grandfather barked out orders. Aunt Grace should get into immediate touch with Jenny Brakes. She should be summoned to the Manor without delay to make some suitable garments for his granddaughters. It was clear that on that outlandish island they had run loose like natives. They could scarcely be presented to the neighbourhood until they were suitably accoutred. I caught Francine's eyes and was alarmingly near to giggling. "He made us sound like Roman soldiers going into battle," she said afterwards.

Then Aunt Grace must find a suitable governess.

"Enquire of your friends at the rectory." I thought he spoke rather sneeringly and as Aunt Grace flushed slightly there seemed to be some subtlety in that remark, which I would report to Francine later if she had not noticed.

When Grandfather had finished eating he wiped his hands rather ceremoniously on his table napkin, flung it aside and rose ponderously to his feet. This was the signal for us all to rise. No one lingered at the table after he had decided the meal was terminated. "Like Queen Elizabeth," commented Francine. "Fortunately he appears to be a great trencherman so that gives us an opportunity to tuck a bit away too."

"First," he announced as he rose to his feet, "they should be taken to their grandmother."

We were astonished. We had forgotten that we had a grandmother. As no mention had been made of her, I had presumed she was dead.

Aunt Grace said, "Come with me."

We followed her. As we left we heard our grandfather say to the butler, "The bacon was not crisp enough this morning."

Following Aunt Grace, I thought how easy it would be to get lost in Greystone Manor. There were staircases in unexpected places and numerous long corridors with smaller ones turning off from them. Aunt Grace went on with the practised air of one who was well acquainted with the twists and turns of the house and she brought us at length to a door. She knocked and it was opened by a woman in a white cap and a black bombazine dress.

"Mrs. Warden, I have brought my nieces to see their grandmother."

"Yes. She is already waiting."

The woman looked at us and nodded. She had a serene face. I noticed this particularly because I had been aware of the lack of that quality in the house.

Aunt Grace led us in and there, seated on a chair beside a four-poster bed, was a little old lady in a frilled cap and a gown in which ribbons were threaded. She looked fragile. Aunt Grace went to her and kissed her and I was immediately aware of a different atmosphere in the room from that which prevailed in the rest of the house.