Free A Season of Secrets by Margaret Pemberton Page A

exchanged cheery hellos and goodbyes with them? Another, even more terrible thought struck her.
    With a face the colour of parchment she said tremulously, ‘If I become a tweeny at Monkswood, will I have to stop coming to Gorton Hall?’
    The question – and Carrie’s distress – smote Blanche’s heart. ‘No,’ she said firmly, closing her mind to the social difficulties that were quite obviously
going to arise in the future. ‘Absolutely not. Whenever we are at Gorton you will always be welcome here.’ She squeezed Carrie’s hands reassuringly. ‘What you have to
concentrate on now is your schoolwork. Will you promise me you will do that?’
    Still so disappointed that she didn’t quite know how she was going to bear it, Carrie nodded. With Thea and Olivia in Norfolk, Violet in London and Hal either working in Richmond or having
lessons with Miss Calvert, there was going to be a lot of lonely time to fill and she knew now how she was going to fill it. She was going to make sure that she wasn’t only sometimes at the
top of her class, but always at the top of it. From now until she left school at fourteen she was going to make Lady Fenton proud of her.
    Later in the day, when Gilbert made his daily evening telephone call to her, Blanche said, ‘Carrie came to see me this morning, and I do so wish she
hadn’t.’
    ‘A strange sentiment coming from you, darling. I thought you found Carrie a delight.’
    ‘I do. It was the reason she wanted to see me that wasn’t delightful. She was twelve at the beginning of the month and thought she was old enough to become a tweeny – and that
she could do so here, at Gorton. I had to explain to her why that would be impossible. It’s such a modest ambition, Gil, and I did so hate disappointing her.’
    ‘How did she take the news?’ There was concern in his voice, for he was as fond of Carrie as she was.
    ‘She looked bewildered – then devastated. I suggested that if she still wants to go into service when she is fourteen, Monkswood would be a good idea. I’m sure that if I had a
word with Lydia there would be no problem, and Richmond is near enough to Outhwaite for Carrie not to feel isolated.’
    ‘True. I’m glad you thought of it. I wouldn’t like Carrie working hundreds of miles away and unable to keep in contact with Thea and Olivia when she has time off.’ He
paused and then said, a different note in his voice, ‘I have some news, Blanche. It involves Charlie. I want you to ask him if he’ll be willing to come with you to London – and,
if he is, I want you to tell him to bring enough clothes for a long stay.’
    ‘You want me to bring Charlie to Mount Street?’ Blanche’s incredulity was total. ‘But he’ll hate it at Mount Street, Gil! It will mean lots of people he’s
never met before, staring at him and talking about him. And what will he do? There will be no outdoor work for him.’
    Gilbert Fenton chuckled. ‘If he’s agreeable, he isn’t going to be at Mount Street. He’s going to be at Queen Mary’s Hospital at Sidcup, which is close to London, in
Kent. A pioneering surgeon by the name of Harold Gillies has set up a unit there expressly for treating soldiers and sailors whose faces have been destroyed by explosives and shrapnel. Gillies is
achieving miracles, Blanche. When I described Charlie’s injuries to him, he said he thought he would be able to create a new nose for him and he showed me before-and-after photographs of a
badly injured sailor for whom he’s done just that. Can you imagine what it will be like for Charlie, if Gillies can do the same thing for him? It will transform his life.’
    ‘It will be . . . a miracle.’ Blanche could hardly speak, her throat was so tight with emotion.
    ‘And before I forget, Rozalind and her mother are sailing on the
Mauretania
in the first week of June and will be with us until the end of August, and the general consensus of
opinion is that I’m going to be made a junior