Hold the Dream. Barbara Taylor Bradford

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СКАЧАТЬ was thinking about another christening … the one you performed when you baptized Edwina with Armley tap water in Laura’s kitchen sink.’ Her eyes held his for the longest moment. ‘I couldn’t help dwelling on the past. You know, Edwin Fairley wouldn’t have been permitted to marry me when I was pregnant, even if he had wanted to, and so Edwina could never have been christened here at Fairley. That really struck home today.’

      ‘Yes,’ he said in agreement, ‘it would have been denied her, no matter what.’

      Emma nodded. ‘And so, as I thought of everything that has gone before in my long life, it suddenly occurred to me that this occasion today was a most compelling example of ironic reversal. And that Adam Fairley, more than anyone else, would have appreciated the poetic justice of it all.’

      She paused, smiled faintly. ‘The wheel of fortune truly has come full circle.’

CHAPTER 11

      Jim Fairley, orphaned at the age of ten and raised by his widowed grandfather, had always been lonely as a child.

      In consequence, he thoroughly enjoyed being a part of Emma Harte’s huge family, one which had become his own when he married Paula in 1968. In a way, being flung head first into this extraordinary clan was something of a novelty to him; also, as yet, he remained unscathed by them and thus had kept an open mind about their individual characters, had not attempted to do a tally of their attributes or their faults. And he had held himself apart from the complex animosities and alliances, feuds and friendships that flourished around Emma.

      Because Jim rarely thought ill of anyone, he was frequently startled when Paula came down hard on one of her aunts or uncles, and at times he even wondered if she exaggerated when she listed their imperfections, the terrible wrongs they had done her grandmother. But then she was fiercely protective of her beloved Grandy, whom she doted on. Jim was secretly amused by his wife’s attitude, since he believed no one was better equipped to take care of herself than Emma Harte.

      A short while ago Jim had decided that Paula’s warnings about the Countess of Dunvale were written in water. So far this weekend Edwina had behaved impeccably – as he had fully expected she would. If she was somewhat reserved with Paula she was at least civil, and he had even managed to make Edwina laugh on their way back from church. She was still in an amiable mood, as he could now see.

      His aunt was chatting with her son, Anthony, and Sally Harte, near the fireplace and her usually stiff, tight-lipped expression had all but vanished. For once she appeared to be relatively at ease. Poor old thing, she’s not so bad, he thought, as always charitable about others, and swung his eyes to the painting to Edwina’s left. This hung over the white marble fireplace and it was one of his favourites.

      Jim stood at the entrance to the Peach Drawing Room. Pennistone Royal, that lovely mixture of Renaissance and Jacobean design, boasted two formal reception rooms. Paula had chosen this one for the christening party.

      He was glad that she had.

      He thought it was the loveliest spot in the entire house, with its cream and peach colour scheme and exquisite paintings. Although Emma had depleted her renowned collection of Impressionists by selling some of them off last year, she had retained the two Monets and the three Sisleys that graced these walls. In his opinion it was the works of art that gave the tranquil and elegant Regency room its great beauty.

      Jim gazed at the Sisley for a second or two longer, admiring it from this vantage point. He had never coveted anything material in his whole life, but he longed to own this painting. Of course he never would. It would always hang in this house, as Emma had decreed in her will. One day it would be Paula’s property, and therefore he would never be deprived of it, could gaze at the landscape whenever he wished. That was why his intense desire for personal possession of it constantly startled him. He had never felt so strongly about anything, except perhaps his wife. His eyes sought Paula without success. The room had filled up during the ten minutes he had been absent with the photographer, who was setting up his equipment in the Grey Drawing Room. It was just possible she was hidden from view.

      He went in rapidly.

      At six foot one, well built but trim of figure and with long legs, James Arthur Fairley cut quite a swathe, especially since he was something of a clothes horse, was never anything but faultlessly dressed right down to his handmade shoes. Like his great-grandfather before him, he had a weakness for elegant clothes and a penchant for wearing them with a bit of a dash. Fair of colouring, with light brown hair, he had a pleasant rather sensitive face and soulful greyish-blue eyes. Born and bred a gentleman, he had a natural self-confidence and handled himself easily, and with aplomb, in any given situation. He had a certain quiet charm and a ready smile for everyone.

      This flashed as he strode into the centre of the room, glanced about, looking for Paula.

      Since he could not find her he took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, and made a move in his father-in-law’s direction. Edwina spotted him and hurried over, cutting him off before he reached David Amory. She at once launched into a rave about the church ceremony, and then engaged him in a conversation that centred on Fairley village. As he listened patiently, Jim realized yet again, and with a recurrence of his initial surprise, that being a Fairley was of tremendous importance to her. Ever since their first meeting, she had continued to ply him with questions about his grandfather, his grandmother and her father, the long-dead Earl of Carlesmoor, and was inquisitive about his own parents who had been tragically killed in a plane crash in 1948.

      On the various occasions he had been with his half-great-aunt, for that was what she actually was, he had detected a sense of embarrassment in her because of her illegitimacy, and he had always felt slightly sorry for her. This was one of the reasons he tried to be kind, to include her in those family celebrations about which he had something to say. His mother-in-law had a nice way with Edwina, but apart from this, Jim recognized that Edwina was drawn to Daisy because they had both been born on the wrong side of the blanket. Emma’s first child strongly identified with her youngest because of this similarity in their births. But their illegitimacy was the only thing they had in common. The two women were the antithesis of each other. His mother-in-law had the sweetest nature, was a compassionate and considerate woman, and a lady in the truest sense of that word. There was no ‘side’ to Daisy Amory, and he liked her for her relaxed attitude towards life, her gaiety and her sense of humour. Sadly, his Aunt Edwina was inflexible and sour, tense and standoffish, a dyed-in-the-wool snob, whose basic values were quite alien to him. Yet there was something indefinable in her that touched him, filled him with a curious sympathy for her. Perhaps this was because they shared the same blood. Paula constantly said that blood was not thicker than water, but he tended to disagree. He was sure of one thing. His relationship with Edwina, slender and tenuous though it was, annoyed Paula to the point of anger. He found this to be most unreasonable on her part, and he fervently wished she could be less emotional about his aunt. In his opinion, Edwina was a harmless old lady.

      ‘I’m so sorry, Aunt Edwina, I missed that,’ Jim said with an apologetic smile, giving her his undivided attention again.

      ‘I was saying that it was a pity my mother had Fairley Hall torn down.’ Edwina gave him a long and careful look through her narrowed silvery eyes. ‘The house was very old, and by rights it really ought to have been preserved as a landmark in Yorkshire. And just think, if it were still standing, you could have lived there with Paula.’

      Jim missed the inherent criticism of her mother in these words. He laughed and shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. I didn’t like the look of Fairley Hall from the photographs I’ve seen. According to Grandfather it was a hodgepodge of architectural styles and СКАЧАТЬ