Unforgettable (Gloria Cook) - By Gloria Cook Page 0,56
the smiley presence of his husband and wife house steward and cook, Sidney and Coral Kelland, a chatty, lumpy-bumpy couple, who had been in service in Randall Newton’s day. Verity was becoming more interested in the Newton family history by the minute and she was hopeful the Kellands would tell her much about it. With them was the housemaid, Cathy Vercoe, a niece of Denny. Denny had taken orphaned Cathy in along with her sister Tilly, who was a maid at Petherton. Cathy was an agreeable young woman of straight figure, discreet and loyal. The company drank tea and ate slices of delicious sponge cake. Verity felt very welcome here and was amused by how the staff kept gazing from her to their master as if seeking to ascertain if there was anything deeper between them than an official capacity. It was obvious the Kellands held Jack in some affection as well as respect and were probably hoping their master would marry again and live a happy settled life.
After showing Verity the downstairs rooms Jack opened the double doors of the library. The smells of leather and beeswax polish hit Verity’s nose. The long room of heavy-curtained windows was warm from a wood and coal fire. Dominating the room was the custom-made table and brown leather chairs. There were many smaller tables and upholstered chairs. Set down on the floor near the door, in a neat row, were containers of various sizes.
‘There’s eight wooden boxes and one crate. I’ve brought in a caddy of tools and opened them all. I don’t want you hurting yourself, Verity, so be very sure to ask Kelland for any help that you need. Don’t lift anything heavy. Your task will be to lay all the items in their categories on the table and to make lists. I don’t require you to do anything complicated. If anything is damaged or fragile put it down one end. Take your time, there’s no hurry at all. There are some cotton gloves on the shelf there. I don’t want you hurting your hands or getting grubby. Anything that’s really heavy or you are not sure about please just leave it where it is. Nothing is urgent. I’ll pop in next week and see how you are getting on. Following that I’ll have more work for you in the farm office, if you’re happy to continue working for me.’
‘I’m sure I’ll be perfectly happy to, Jack. I think I’m going to be fascinated to get stuck in to those boxes.’
‘That’s obvious,’ Jack said. ‘Your eyes are lit up like Christmas lights.’ Verity noticed he was getting restless, even uncomfortable. She went on to learn from Mrs Kelland that he never stayed in any place for long. ‘I’m off to play golf with friends at Mounts Bay. Settle yourself in slowly, Verity, and thank you. Don’t forget that the Kellands and Cathy will be only too happy to wait on you. They prefer it when someone is in the house.’
He left the room, and Verity had watched him as he had halted and heaved a sigh and lit a cigarette. It came to her then that despite Jack’s caddish reputation he was probably actually a lonely man dragged down by bad experiences he couldn’t forget, and the fast life he led might merely be his way of filling in time. That saddened her.
Now, she was expecting Jack to show up to see how her work was progressing. She had enjoyed every moment of her time spent at Meadows House, watching the piles of books and maps grow as she delivered them out of their dark solitude. Her lists were long for there were books on every subject, in every language, including Latin, by authors and illustrators of every nation and walk of life. Some were originally from Britain. Judging by the editions on the Newtons’ shelves, Verity believed Randall was a seeker and collector and had lost interest in his finds after that. Why else leave his collections unpacked and nailed down? While Verity was sure Randall had been a bully, who had found most things in his life unsatisfactory and grown intent on destroying it – hence the dejection of his three children – she felt there was no mystery about him, but she was still curious about the tragic fate that had befallen Jack’s young wife, Lucinda. And Verity was puzzled, like all of Nanviscoe, over another tragedy, one that had cast a gloom over the highly successful