“Wellingford Hall is going to feel deserted,” Audrey said with a sigh. “Alfie is studying at Oxford this fall, Mother stays in London most of the time, and now I’m going away, too.” As if sensing the strain between them, she added, “If you give me your address, I could write to you from time to time.”
Eve smiled and shook her head. “You don’t need me anymore, Audrey. You’ve become very brave all on your own.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I’ve peeked through the baize door once or twice and watched you mingling with all those elegant people your mother invites to her parties. You look perfectly at ease.” Eve lifted her chin and held out her pinkie finger as she imitated a fancy lady sipping tea.
Audrey smiled. Then her smile vanished as her eyes welled with tears. “I’m going to miss you, Eve. I’ll never forget you.”
Eve scrambled for something to say to stop her own tears. She didn’t want Audrey to know how much she would miss her—or how hurt she’d been as Audrey had slowly outgrown their friendship. They were both young women now, sixteen years old, and both about to start new chapters in their lives. “I’ll share a secret with you if you promise not to tell anyone,” Eve said.
Audrey’s smile returned at this reminder of their childhood ritual. She placed her right hand over her heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die. I swear by my very life not to tell.”
“I’m not always going to be a typist. Once I get a job in a fancy office, I’m going to charm my boss until he falls head over heels in love with me and asks me to marry him. Someday I’ll be as rich as you are, and I’ll be the mistress of a house just as big as Wellingford. Maybe bigger!”
“I’m sure you’ll do it, too,” Audrey said with a somber nod. “You’ll go far, Eve Dawson.”
“Thanks.” Eve rarely admitted to anyone, including herself, that she envied Audrey’s wealthy, pampered life. She backed toward the door. “Well, goodbye, Audrey, and good luck. Maybe we’ll meet again someday.” She needed to leave before their farewell turned tearful.
“I wish you well, Eve,” Audrey called after her. “And thank you for being a good friend when I needed one.”
Eve hurried up the back stairs to her room, wondering if anyone would ever take Audrey’s place in her life. She would never forget her friend’s quiet dignity and grace and the many things she’d taught her as they’d shared tea together, things she probably never had thanked her for.
Early the next morning, Williams drove Eve to the train station. He offered to let her take the wheel one last time, but she shook her head. Eve looked back only once, not to say goodbye to Wellingford Hall, but for a final glimpse of the woods she’d roamed as a girl. Leaving Mum behind, along with George and Tildy and Williams and Robbins and Mrs. Smith, and all of the other people she loved, had been harder than she’d imagined. They watched out for her, took care of her, but now she was on her own. Alone. If she dared to admit it, she felt afraid.
Williams braked as they rounded a curve in the road, coming to a halt to allow a flock of sheep to cross. The shepherd tipped his hat to them, then used his staff to guide a wayward sheep back to the path. Eve remembered a snippet of the psalm Granny Maud had taught her—“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want”—and she smiled at this reminder of the Good Shepherd’s care. She wasn’t alone after all.
A small crowd of passengers already filled the platform at the train depot. Williams got out and lifted Eve’s lone suitcase from the boot of the car. “I’m sorry I can’t stay and wait for the train with you, but I have to hurry back and load Miss Audrey’s things. I’m driving her to London today. Lady Rosamunde wouldn’t let me drive you both there together.”
“I’ll be fine,” Eve said around the knot in her throat.
“I know you will, my brave girl. I never met anyone as fearless as you, Eve Dawson. Imagine, coaxing me into teaching you to drive when you could barely see over the steering wheel.” Williams sounded as if he had a knot in his throat, too. He paused to clear it. “You still have the directions I gave you for taking the Underground to that new school of yours?”
She blinked away tears and patted her jacket pocket. “I have them. Thanks.”
“Well, good luck to you, Eve. I’ll miss you, girl.” He seemed reluctant to leave.
Eve threw herself into his arms and hugged him tightly. “I’ll miss you, too, Williams. Maybe I’ll sneak back and visit you once in a while.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” She backed away to wipe her tears and saw tears in his eyes, too. “I’ll need to practice shifting gears so I don’t forget how to do it.” He nodded and bowed to her before getting behind the wheel and driving away. Eve watched the car until it turned out of sight.
LONDON, JANUARY 1936
Eve took the steps to her school two at a time and pushed through the door. Several of her teachers and fellow students huddled in the foyer, talking quietly. “Is it true?” Eve asked, panting for breath. “I just heard a newsboy shouting, ‘King George is dead! Long live King Edward.’ I didn’t want to believe it.”
“It’s true,” her typing instructor said. “His Majesty died last night at Sandringham House. Classes are canceled until after the funeral.”
Eve wanted to sit down to absorb the news, but the only bench was taken. The hallway seemed oddly quiet without the usual clacking and pinging of typewriters in the background. “I can’t imagine England without His Majesty,” Eve murmured. She didn’t know why, but it seemed like a significant event in her life, the end of an era. Like when Granny Maud died. The other girls continued talking.
“They say King George will lie in state in Westminster Abbey so leaders from around the world can pay their respects.”
“I wonder what sort of king Prince Edward will be. He never seems to take his duties very seriously.”
“He hasn’t even married yet. He has no heir.”
“And he’s having an affair with a married woman.”
“She’s twice married! She divorced her first husband and is still married to the second while running all over Europe with Prince Edward.”
“It’s quite shocking.”
“And she’s an American!”
“That’s enough, girls,” the instructor said. “We must show respect for our new monarch.”
“Our new monarch.” What changes would he bring? The front door opened and closed, bringing gusts of cold air as more students arrived to chew over the news. Eve didn’t want to stay and digest this unsettling loss with them. Nor did she want to return to the boardinghouse, where the other girls would be laughing and giggling as they celebrated a few days off from classes. She tied her scarf around her neck again and ventured out into the January morning. Her breath fogged the air as she walked to the nearest Underground station and took a train across town to the Clarksons’ town house, hoping to see her mum. Lady Rosamunde lived in London almost year-round now, rarely returning to Wellingford Hall, even for holidays.
“Lady Rosamunde returned home very late last night,” Mum said after greeting Eve with a hug. “We’ll have plenty of time for a cup of tea before she wakes up.” She brewed a fresh pot and poured them each a cup. They sat at the table in the basement while the other servants bustled around with morning preparations. Mr. Clarkson’s morning newspaper had announced the tragic news, and the atmosphere downstairs had the subdued hush of a church service. The single, high window near the ceiling allowed scant light on this dismal morning, and the electric bulbs hanging on cords from the ceiling did little to chase the darkness.