Midsummer's Eve Read online

  It was rather a splendid dinner party that evening, though it was only a family affair. A great deal of entertaining was done in the house in the square and it seemed impossible for a dinner party to take place in that splendid dining room without a certain amount of ceremony. Aunt Amaryllis said we were lucky because Peter was able to join us; and it was probably his presence which added dignity to the occasion.

  “Very often his work takes him away,” Aunt Amaryllis explained. “There is always some important committee, particularly now he is concerned with parliamentary affairs.”

  She spoke of him in almost reverent tones. I thought it must be rather uncomfortable to live with such a man. I knew it was for Helena and Peterkin but Aunt Amaryllis was like an acolyte serving in the master’s temple.

  Uncle Peter told us how glad he was to see us in town.

  “We’re spying out the land,” my father told him. “We shall have to be thinking about Annora’s coming out.”

  “It is a little late, I suppose,” said my mother. “She’ll be past eighteen.”

  “There have been delays all round because of what has been happening,” replied Aunt Amaryllis. “The Court has been in disarray. The King’s been ill for so long and poor Queen Adelaide too. Now we have a new young queen on the throne, things will change, I have no doubt.”

  “Have you seen her?” I asked eagerly.

  “We were at the Guildhall dinner in November,” said Uncle Peter.

  “What is she like?”

  “Delightful,” said Aunt Amaryllis. She turned to Helena and Peterkin. “You’ve seen her, haven’t you, riding in her carriage?”

  “She looks very young and very sure of herself,” said Helena.

  “I suppose she would have to be sure of herself,” added Peterkin.

  “She certainly seems full of confidence,” said Uncle Peter. “I believe it is a good thing for a country to have a young queen for whom the people can show affection. They are tired of doddering old gentlemen.”

  “Peter!” said Aunt Amaryllis in a kind of shocked delight.

  “It’s true, my dear. George was almost senile at the end, and William was adept at making a fool of himself.” He lifted his glass: “Long live Victoria. God save the Queen.”

  We all drank to that.

  “You’ll be here for the coronation?” said Aunt Amaryllis.

  “Well …” began my father.

  “Oh come,” said Uncle Peter. “It’s an historic occasion.”

  “We have to see how things are at Eversleigh.”

  “Jonathan’s taking care of that.”

  “There was a time,” said my mother, looking at Uncle Peter, “when you were of the opinion that he would not be able to run Eversleigh successfully.”

  He gave her a strange look, almost as though there was some understanding between them and he found it hard to suppress his amusement. “It was one of my mistakes,” he retorted. “Rare, you will agree, but nevertheless a mistake.”

  “The coronation festivities will be exciting,” said Aunt Amaryllis. “Several state balls, levees, a Drawing Room and a State concert,” added Uncle Peter.

  Aunt Amaryllis looked at her husband with pride and then at her children. She said to them: “Your father will of course be able to go to any that he wishes to.”

  Uncle Peter gave her a fond look and I thought: She is the perfect wife, which is one who thinks her husband is always right, laughs at his jokes and loves him without question. There must be very few perfect wives. It was typical of Uncle Peter that he should have acquired this rarity. My parents loved each other dearly, but there were often disagreements between them. It had been the same with my grandparents; Tamarisk and Jonathan lived a tempestuous existence; yet they were all love matches. Only Aunt Amaryllis, from a husband’s point of view, must be the perfect wife.

  “My dear,” he said fondly, for who would not be fond at such blatant admiration, “I shall have to wait and see whether my presence is commanded. I daresay we shall attend one of the balls.” He looked at me. “I’m afraid, my dear Annora, that we shall be unable to take you with us as you are not yet out.”

  “I didn’t expect to go,” I told him. “And shall we be in London?”

  My father hesitated. He said: “I don’t really want to extend my stay. I am thinking of going to Australia and there will be a great many things I have to do at home before I can leave.”

  “To Australia,” said Uncle Peter. “How interesting.” He added with a smile: “The scene of your youth, eh?”

  “Exactly. I have property there.”

  “It will be very interesting.”

  “Peter has a wonderful project in view, haven’t you, Peter?” said Aunt Amaryllis.

  He looked at her with a kind of tender exasperation, but I knew that behind it he was pleased, because we were now going to hear of another of his triumphs.

  “My dear,” he said reproachfully, “they will not be interested …”

  “But of course we are,” insisted my father. “What is this new achievement? I know they are commonplace with you, Peter, but we country folk like to hear of the great exploits of government. Is there an election coming up?”

  “Not in the immediate future. The Whigs are not very secure, as you know. Melbourne, of course, gets on very well with the Queen.”

  “Yes,” said my mother. “Even in the country we hear what a good relationship there is between them.”

  “It means,” went on Uncle Peter, “that the Whigs, through one man, have the Queen in leading reins. That sort of thing won’t be tolerated long.”

  “You mean by the Tories?”

  “Exactly.”

  “So what diabolical schemes have you hatched for unseating your enemies?” asked my father.

  “Nothing unconstitutional. It will happen naturally.”

  “And when Sir Robert Peel’s government is in power …” said Aunt Amaryllis, looking proudly at her husband.

  “A post in the government?” asked my father. “Well, we expect that of you, Peter. But we have digressed. What about this triumph of yours? You were just about to tell us.”

  “We are all eagerness to hear,” said my mother, looking rather coldly at Uncle Peter.

  “Well,” began Uncle Peter with a show of reluctance. “Nothing is settled yet. A commission is being set up. There is a great deal of vice in the Capital. Drugs …” He glanced at me and hesitated. I guessed he was thinking of my youth and the inadvisability of discussing unpleasant realities in my presence. “Disreputable conduct,” he went on. “The chairing of this commission will go to a politician.”

  “You?” said my mother in a rather blank voice.

  He smiled at her and I saw that understanding flash between them. He seemed to find it very amusing. “I’m not sure,” he said. “It’s really a matter of party politics. Actually I believe it is a toss-up between myself and Joseph Cresswell.”

  “Peter says that if he could get it and it was a success … the road would open,” said Aunt Amaryllis. “What do you think, Peter? The Home Office?”

  “When Melbourne’s Whigs are defeated and Peel’s Tories are supreme,” said my father.

  “Yes, that will have to come about first,” agreed Peter. “But it has to be … sooner or later.”

  “So really,” added my father, “it is a question of either you or Joseph Cresswell.”

  “I think one could say that with some certainty.”

  “Surely they would not be so foolish as to give the post to Joseph Cresswell,” said Aunt Amaryllis rather heatedly.

  “They do not all possess your discernment, my dear,” said Uncle Peter, giving her another of those fond glances.

  My father said: “Cresswell is, of course, a well-known man. He’s had a great success with the Commission for Canals. He is very able. I daresay in the next Melbourne ministry he’ll qualify for a very high post.”

  “Certainly he will. That’s if he gets this and makes a success of it.
”

  “That’s not going to happen, is it?” asked my father. “It’s going to you, isn’t it?”

  Uncle Peter lifted his shoulders. “Melbourne will be behind Cresswell and his power is increasing every week. He certainly knows how to handle the Queen, and that makes him important to his party.”

  “But as you say, he is on shaky ground.”

  “I think this matter will be resolved before we get rid of this government.”

  “That looks like good luck for the enemy.”

  “Don’t call Cresswell that. We’re good friends out of the House. I respect and admire Cresswell. He’s a good politician … although on the wrong side, of course.” Uncle Peter laughed. “But none the less an admirable man. He’s a good family man … and Melbourne, with his record, needs such around him. We visit now and then. They are a very pleasant family, aren’t they, my dear?”

  “Oh, they are charming,” said Aunt Amaryllis. “I like them all very much. Young Joe is very nice … and that girl Frances.”

  “Oh, full of good works,” said Uncle Peter. “As you see, I have a formidable rival.”

  “I don’t doubt you have more irons in the fire.”

  “It’s always wise to,” said Uncle Peter.

  Soon after that we left the men at their port and went with Aunt Amaryllis to the drawing room.

  “I do wish you were staying longer in London,” said Aunt Amaryllis.

  “It would be nice,” agreed my mother, “but we have to go to Eversleigh.”

  “It must be very sad there for you now that your parents have gone, Jessica.”

  My mother nodded. “It can never be the same, but I do think Claudine likes to see us and there are Jonathan and Tamarisk.”

  “Those two are all right. My mother comes up now and again but my father does not like to leave the place.”

  “Oh, Amaryllis, how things have changed!”

  “Life does, but we have been so fortunate, Jessica, you and I in our marriages. You and Jake, Peter and I. I do hope Helena and Peterkin and Annora will be as lucky. Jacco, too. I wish Peterkin would decide what he wants to do. Helena, why don’t you try to persuade Annora to stay with us while her parents are in Eversleigh?”

  Helena’s face lighted up. “Oh, that would be lovely.”

  She looked appealingly at my mother and then turned to me: “Would you like to, Annora?”

  “Yes,” I said, “I should. I’d love to see all the festivities for the coronation. I’d like to be with you, Helena.”

  “I don’t see why you shouldn’t stay up here,” said my mother. “After all, you’d really enjoy that more.”

  “We’d look after her,” said Aunt Amaryllis. “Wouldn’t we, Helena?”

  “It would be lovely,” said Helena.

  The next day it was decided that when my parents left for Eversleigh, I should stay in the house in the square until my parents returned.

  I first met John Milward in the Park. My parents had gone to Eversleigh and I was very much enjoying being with my cousins. When he was away from the house Peterkin seemed to change his personality; he became much more relaxed. I thought that was another example of how trying it must be to live in the shadow of such a successful father.

  I shared a bedroom with Helena which was a pleasure to us both because before going to sleep we would share confidences. I learned quite a lot about her and how she had always felt herself to be dull and stupid because she found lessons difficult. Coming out and discovering that she was not attractive to the opposite sex had been the coup de grâce.

  But now that was changed. John Milward had come into her life.

  Sometimes Peterkin would join Helena and me and we would go out together. Our favourite jaunt was to the Park which seemed a source of never-ending delight to me. We enjoyed walking and would stroll through St. James’s Park and Green Park to Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens. There we would walk by the Serpentine and stand at the edge of the Round Pond looking beyond to Kensington Palace where the Queen had spent her childhood. She was at Buckingham Palace now and I always hoped that we should catch a glimpse of her riding in her carriage. Everyone seemed delighted that we now had a young girl for a queen.

  We had just entered Hyde Park and Peterkin pointed out to me Apsley House, the home of the Duke of Wellington.

  “And,” he was saying, “in case you should fail to see it and pay due homage, here is the great Achilles Statue set up in honour of the Duke.”

  It was a massive figure, meant I supposed to display the might and grandeur of the masculine figure—a symbol of the power of the great Duke.

  I read the inscription which stated that it was dedicated to Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington, and his brave companions in arms; it had been cast from cannon taken at the Duke’s victorious battles including that of Waterloo. It had been erected through subscriptions of the women of England to do honour to military glory.

  “There has been a lot of controversy about it,” said Peterkin. “Some think it vulgar. Others that it is a work of genius.”

  “Isn’t that always what happens to works of art?” I asked. “Most things are criticized before people know what they ought to think, and when they are proclaimed works of genius everyone agrees, and it is as though there had never been any other opinion. Lots of people have to be told what they should think.”

  “When I look at that,” said Peterkin, “I think of joining the army.”

  Helena said: “You were thinking of going into Parliament a little while ago.”

  Peterkin grimaced. “Fancy following our father! Everyone would say, He’s not what his father was!”

  “Perhaps you would be better,” I suggested.

  “That would be impossible.”

  It was just at this moment that two young men came strolling towards us and before I was told I knew, from Helena’s expression, that one of them was John Milward.

  “Well,” he said, “fancy meeting you.” And I could see, from the manner in which he looked at Helena, that their arrival was no surprise and I remembered that she had been rather insistent that I see the Achilles Statue, and it was she who had kept us lingering there.

  “Annora,” she said, “this is Lord John Milward.”

  He bowed over my hand. Yes, there was something very pleasant about him. What struck me most was his youth. He looked younger than Peterkin, and Peterkin was two years younger than Helena. He seemed a little weak to me; he had large brown eyes and a gentle expression. Perhaps I had looked too long at Achilles.

  He was smiling at Helena and I thought with pleasure: He is surely in love with her.

  I was being introduced to the other young man and as soon as I heard his name I remembered. He was Joe Cresswell and that meant he was the son of the man whom my father had laughingly called “the enemy.”

  We stood for a while talking. Peterkin explained that we were taking a walk through the Park to show Cousin Annora some of the sights. Joe Cresswell was interested and I told him I came from Cornwall; and we talked for a while about that county of which he knew a little.

  I walked ahead with Peterkin and Joe Cresswell; and Helena and John Milward fell in behind. We strolled along near the Row and Peterkin explained to me that this was once called the Ring and was a sort of parade for fashionable people to show off their fine clothes.

  Joe Cresswell said: “I’ve something to tell you, Peterkin. I think I may be standing at the next election. I’m one of the candidates up for selection anyway, and my father says he thinks I have a good chance.”

  “That’s excellent news,” said Peterkin.

  “If I get it. The general opinion is that the party will be out at the next election.”

  “Yes,” said Peterkin, “everyone seems to think that is very likely.”

  Joe Cresswell turned to me. “I’m sorry, Miss Cadorson. This must all be rather boring for you.”

  “No. Not in the least. I am very interested to hear about it. Being in London is like br
eathing different air. It is all so exciting. I’m afraid we are a little dull in the country.”

  “Some prefer it,” said Peterkin. “It depends so much on one’s personality.”

  “I think,” said Joe Cresswell, “that I should always want to be where things are happening.”

  We came to the Serpentine and walked along its banks. Joe Cresswell asked me how long I was staying. I told him I was not quite sure. My parents were visiting relatives in Kent. When they returned to London we should all go home together.

  “Annora will be coming out next year,” said Peterkin. “But she is going with her family to Australia before that, I believe.”

  “Those are the plans at the moment,” I explained. “But it is all a little uncertain.”

  We sat down on a seat and watched two children with their nurses throwing breadcrumbs to the ducks.

  Helena came up with John Milward. “We’re going to walk on a little way,” said John. “We’ll see you later.”

  Peterkin and Joe Cresswell exchanged smiles.

  I liked Joe Cresswell; he was very relaxed. He talked about his home and mostly of his father, to whom, it was obvious, he was very attached.

  “I hope he gets this job,” he said. “He’s set his heart on it. Sorry, Peterkin. If my Pater’s in, yours will be out.”

  “He can win some other time. You think this is more or less settled, do you?”

  “Between ourselves, Miss Cadorson, I am sure I can trust you … but Lord Melbourne has hinted …”

  “I suppose he would have a lot of say.”

  “Of course he’d rather it went to one of our party.”

  “It seems a very important matter,” I said.

  “These things are important in politics, Miss Cadorson. One thing leads to another. That is why it is such an exciting game.”

  “When will your by-election come up?”

  “In a few months.”

  “You’ve got a good chance if you’re nominated,” said Peterkin. “It’s a safe Whig seat and your father is a name.”