Chapter 37

It wasn't long before everything returned to how it had been. I stayed at Jim's for another two nights but, after Samantha's visit, the bond we'd formed during those days spent together seemed to have broken. She'd reminded us both of her existence, turning up out of the blue like that. The plumber came out on Monday morning and relit the pilot light on the boiler, and I was glad to be back in my own home, to sleep in a bed again. Although able to put a little weight on my ankle, I needed to be careful not to make it worse, so I carried on working from home when Gatley Hall reopened. I texted Helen, telling her about the sledging incident, and asked if she'd be able to drive me to see Margaret at Hyacinth Place on Friday afternoon. We met in the staff car park.

In the car, she said, ‘How have you been, apart from the injury, that is?'

I told her about the past few days with Jim, and Samantha's unexpected visit.

‘Goodness, you have been through the wringer,' she said.

When we reached Hyacinth Place, we met Margaret in the lounge once again. She was drinking tea and had applied pink lipstick this time. Remembering the photograph of her from the guidebook, I could see her younger face. Her cheekbones were now more defined, the nose slightly larger, the lips thinner. Her nails were painted the same shade of pink as her lipstick, and she wore a navy-blue dress with a floral pattern. It hung off her slim frame, but the colour complemented her pale complexion. I could see she liked nice clothes and had an interest in fashion.

‘Thank you for seeing us again,' I said.

‘It is lovely to have visitors,' she said. ‘And it gives me a reason to make myself look respectable. I'm much better than last time you came. That cold made me feel rather dreadful and sometimes my memory isn't what it once was.'

‘I'm glad to hear that,' I said, hoping she might be able to tell us more on this visit. I told her about finding the portrait of Luca and showed her the photo. ‘What was he doing here in Gatley?' I said.

‘He was an Italian prisoner of war on Home Farm, working as a labourer,' she said.

This explained why an Italian had been in Gatley during the war. I showed her the page from Mrs Field's Diary about a servant's mother saying there was a scandal at a country house in the area.

‘I don't have my glasses with me, can you read it out?' Margaret said.

I did as she asked, and Helen's eyes lit up.

‘Oh can I have a look at that, Claire?' she said.

I handed her the book and she read the paragraph, nodding.

‘The house team has been aware of this information for some time and we always wondered if Mrs Field was talking about Gatley Hall. As there were a few country houses in the area, we couldn't be sure,' Helen said.

‘Mrs Field was my Aunt Edith. I have a copy of that diary somewhere,' Margaret said.

‘Really?' I said.

Helen and I exchanged an excited glance.

‘Yes, and Penelope is me. It took all my strength not to tell her the truth when she asked one evening. She was a gossip, you see, and I was being loyal to my late mistress, Lady Violet, but also my intention was to protect Tabitha. It was vital that no one knew her real identity.'

‘Can you tell us more?' I said, thrilled with this development, but still confused about who Tabitha was.

‘Lady Violet was the Earl of Elmbridge's third wife. He'd discarded the other ones because they didn't give him an heir. She decided to take a lover and get herself pregnant so he couldn't do the same to her and take the money inherited from her father. When my mistress died during childbirth, Mr and Mrs Willis, the butler and housekeeper, adopted Tabitha and I worked as her nanny for a short time. The earl didn't know anything about it as Lady Violet only planned to tell him if the baby was a boy. If Tabitha had been male, Lady Violet would have asked her husband to accept the child as his heir.'

Everything was beginning to make sense now.

‘Oh, I see,' I said. ‘So, why do you want us to find Tabitha?'

‘I have a brooch I need to give to her. After the birth, Lady Violet called me into her room and told me she was going to die. I didn't believe her and thought she was merely exhausted from the birth and all the emotions that came with her situation. She made me promise to take her brooch from the safe when returning to Gatley Hall, and then to give it to Tabitha on her wedding day.'

‘So, why didn't that happen?'

‘My first husband, Tom, told me he'd sold it as we didn't have much money when we were first married. I was devastated but there was nothing I could do about it. But when he died, I found the brooch in a shoebox. He'd kept it all along.'

‘What is the brooch like?'

‘It's oval-shaped with an emerald in the centre and surrounded by diamonds. Lady Violet's grandmother wore it when meeting Queen Victoria.'

This scandalous story was intriguing. And a connection to Queen Victoria would work well in the Below Stairs exhibition. I visualised all the materials I could use to tell this story: Luca's portrait, the photo of the servants, the wedding photo of Margaret and Thomas, the page from Mrs Field's diary, the brooch itself if I was able to borrow it.

‘And where do you think Tabitha might be?' I said.

‘She must still be in Italy.'

‘Italy?' I said.

Margaret nodded.

‘The ATP wouldn't pay for me, us' – I turned to Helen – ‘to go to Italy, I'm afraid.'

‘I'll pay for it. I have plenty of money.'

‘We couldn't accept that,' I said.

She shrugged. ‘Well, that is a shame. An all-expenses-paid trip to Italy? Are you sure you want to miss out on this opportunity? You'd not only get to see Florence, but also fulfil the request of a dying woman? And just think how wonderful it would be to uncover a secret that changes the history of Gatley Hall?'

Margaret had a point, but how could Helen and I justify going to Italy?

‘We'll let you know. Is that all right?' Helen said.

‘Very good,' Margaret said. ‘Ah, I have something for you, Claire.' She picked up her handbag, took out a hardback book and handed it to me.

‘What's this?'

‘This is the copy of A Room with a View that belonged to Lady Violet. She was going to lend it to me after she'd read it, and I took it from her bedside table after she died, as a keepsake. Reading that book and watching the film has kept me going at times. During my marriage to Tom there was no possibility of going to Florence, but this book took me there.'

What a lovely gesture.

‘Are you sure?' I said, a lump in my throat.

‘Of course, I want you to have it. I'm passing my love of Florence on to you, and I expect you can use it in your exhibition, seeing as it belonged to Lady Violet.'

‘Thank you very much, Margaret. This is very kind of you.'

‘I urge you to read it, especially if you can't decide whether to go to Florence or not. And watch the wonderful film too.'

‘All right. If I did go to Florence, how would I go about finding Tabitha, exactly?'

‘Her surname is likely to have changed. Once it was Willis, then her married name was Dobson. But who knows if she married again? Luca mentioned she had a boyfriend and she might have married him since then.'

‘We can have a look on the internet.'

‘Do go to Florence. Start with Luca's bakery, the Pasticceria Mancini.'

I made a note in my phone.

‘It will be an adventure, and you're sure to regret it if you don't,' Margaret said. ‘And don't forget the Italian saying, "Dolce far niente", meaning the sweetness of doing nothing. Luca told me about it. When you're there, you'll understand how it fits so well with the Italian way of life.'

‘Dolce far niente,' I repeated to myself. ‘How beautiful. How do you know Luca is still alive?'

‘After visiting Florence, I wrote to his granddaughter. She sends me a Christmas card every year, signed by him.'

‘All right. Thank you, Margaret,' I said.

We got up to leave and she took hold of my hand, smiling.

‘If you do this for me, Claire, dear, I will be ever so grateful to you.'

Heading for the door, I felt we had enough information to hopefully get us somewhere. But also, I was more determined than ever to help this woman fulfil her lifelong wish.

‘Wait,' Margaret called after us.

I went back. ‘What is it?' I said.

‘I've just remembered what I should have included in the letter. Tabitha's middle name was Lucia. Mr and Mrs Willis tended to call her the English equivalent, Lucy, as they thought it suited her better. When my second husband, Nathan, and I went to La Spezia to look for Tabitha, there was an English girl who'd been waitressing there called Lucia. We were never sure whether it was her, but it sounded likely.'

‘That is very helpful information. Thank you, Margaret,' I said.

She seemed so determined for us to reunite Tabitha with her mother's brooch. I guessed this was because she'd made a promise that remained unfulfilled.

In the car, Helen and I went over what Margaret had said.

‘Do you think we could find Tabitha?' I said.

‘I don't know,' Helen said. ‘I'd like to go to Florence though, wouldn't you?'

‘I'd love to go to Florence, especially for the art and the history.'

‘Oh, Claire. You must go. I'm wondering if we even need to tell the ATP about this. Unless we find Tabitha of course. After all you've been through lately, a holiday would do you good. Why don't we book the flights? I could find us a boutique hotel online. We'd have a lovely time, and think of the food and wine. I could expense my half and write a book set there. My publisher has been asking me to write an Italian romance for years and I've never got round to it.'

‘You really think we should go?' I said.

The idea of getting away did appeal, and to Florence, somewhere I'd always wanted to visit.

‘Yes, Claire. I think we should. Let's strike while the iron is hot.'

‘And I'm thinking that if we can reunite Tabitha and the brooch her mother wanted her to have, that would help us get publicity for the Below Stairs exhibition, especially with the Queen Victoria connection.'

‘You are probably right. I can imagine Wendy in PR would be very excited if we do manage to reunite Tabitha with that brooch.'