he had put all
his money into the building of the house.
Although trees had been planted in order to form
a windbreak, they were still little more than
saplings and the rest of the land had been put
down to lawn. Sheep grazed on the grass,
keeping it short, but this was not the sort of
garden that Eloise remembered from her
childhood in the gently rolling countryside of
Dorset.
As the weather improved, Eloise put the
children in Ted's cart and ventured outside the
walled perimeter of Cribb's Hall to the open
countryside where swathes of yellow daffodils
grew wild on the hillsides, and the hedgerows
were softened by a haze of green buds. Eloise
had discovered a pleasant walk by the river,
which was overhung with catkins dangling from
willow trees and its banks were studded with
primroses. On one of these outings in late April,
when the sun shone brightly and there was no
hint of rain, Eloise made the bold decision to take
Ada with them on their walk. Hilda and Joan had
gone off in the carriage to Scarborough for
luncheon with friends and a shopping expedition.
It would be teatime at least before they
returned.
With Mabel's assistance, Eloise managed to get
Ada dressed in outdoor clothes borrowed from
one of the taller housemaids, who just happened
to be one of Mabel's many cousins, and could be
trusted not to tell. Mid-afternoon was always a
sleepy time in Cribb's Hall, when the maids had
a couple of hours' rest before starting up again
later with preparations for dinner, lighting fires
and turning down beds. It had been relatively
easy to smuggle Ada out of the house unnoticed,
and Eloise felt a degree of elation and a sense of
triumph in her achievement. She could not
openly defy her mother-in-law or Joan, but at
least she could do something to alleviate the
tedium of Ada's dreary existence. As they came
to the riverbank, Eloise was rewarded by Ada's
sudden outpouring of joy as she began to gambol
about as crazily as any of the spring lambs that
could be seen in the distant fields. Her ungainly
limbs seemed quite out of control as she waved
her arms above her head, raising her pale face to
soak up the warmth of the sun. Eloise was afraid
that Ada might tumble into the fast-flowing
river, but she could not help laughing as she
watched her antics. Joss ran about too and Beth
sat up in the cart chuckling and clapping her
hands. It was such a happy scene that Eloise felt
her spirits rise. The harsh reality of the winter
seemed far behind them at this moment, and she
experienced a surge of optimism which was not
entirely due to the freedom of being outside
Cribb's Hall, or the beautiful spring weather. She
pulled the cart over to a tree stump and she sat
down to reread the letter from her mother, which
had arrived only that morning.
It had been posted in Gibraltar not long after
the start of her parents' long journey. It was a
determinedly brave missive, filled with love and
hope that their enforced separation would be
short, but there were water marks where Eloise
could only guess that Mama had shed a few
tears, as she had herself when she had first read
the letter. She read it and reread it, closing her
eyes and trying to picture the cabin, which
Mama said was dreadfully cramped, and the
bunks which were hard and too narrow, but
apparently her father was in his element. He held
services on board every Sunday and was
convinced that he was following his true calling.
He could not wait to arrive in Africa and begin
his work as a missionary. Eloise folded the letter,
raised it to her lips and kissed it before tucking it
away beneath her stays, close to her heart.
Joss chose this moment to take a tumble and
began to howl, but before Eloise could get to him,
Ada had picked him up and was cradling him in
her arms. 'Poor boy,' she crooned. 'All better,
Joss. Kiss it better.' She angled her head and
kissed his sore knee.
Eloise approached her slowly, not wanting to
alarm her, but Ada was teetering very close to
the water's edge and