Every Mother's Son by Val Wood Page A

little fatter – you know, that sort of thing.’
    Charles rocked back on his heels. ‘Well, for one thing, I wouldn’t be attracted to you because you and I look quite alike, and I’d probably choose someone dark-haired and exotic, whereas you are the typical English woman with your fair skin that burns in the sun, just as mine does.’
    He eyed her as she pouted crossly. ‘But I suppose you’re all right. Your hair’s nice, blonde and shiny. I don’t know! How am I supposed to know? I don’t know any other girls.’ He paused thoughtfully. ‘I suppose that’s why we were encouraged to have the party. Maybe our parents were sizing up the contestants for our eventual nuptials.’
    Beatrice shot off the bed and crouched beside him. ‘You’re not serious?’ And as he nodded, she teased, ‘So that’s you married off to Anne Mason and I to the – what did Daniel call him? The toffee-nosed idiot Hanson.’ She folded her arms in front of her. ‘I think not !’
    ‘I’d gamble that it’s the start,’ Charles maintained. ‘We’ll be encouraged to go to parties and balls and suppers to meet the right people.’ He closed the trunk. ‘Do you think that Father and Mama had to do this? Do you think that when Father was young he was invited to meet young ladies to discover if he got along with them and if they were suitable for marriage? I can’t imagine it, can you?’
    Beatrice considered. ‘Yes, I can. I can imagine Papa being quite a catch. I think that all the eligible young women in Yorkshire, and,’ she added darkly, ‘even those who were not, would have fallen in love with him; and he’s still quite handsome. You’ll look like him, Charles, when you’re old.’
    He wasn’t sure if he was being flattered, but he commented, ‘Well, nevertheless, when I’ve finished school I’m not going straight to university as Father wants me to; I’m going on a tour of Europe with Daniel. He wants to find out about his background and I want to see life as it really is. We won’t take a Grand Tour with Mr Thomas Cook, we’ll make our own way; we’ll cross France and Switzerland and travel into Italy, where, I suspect, Daniel’s forebears are from. I shall plan a full itinerary nearer the time.’
    Beatrice had been listening silently until then, but now she said, ‘Italy? You think that’s where his family is from? Because he’s so dark-haired, you mean?’
    ‘And his eyes,’ Charles emphasized. ‘Have you never noticed them? So dark, almost Arabian.’
    ‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘Of course I’ve noticed them. Will I still be in Switzerland when you come through, I wonder?’ Her eyes gazed dreamily into the distance as if she were looking into the future. ‘I think … no, I’m sure, that I most certainly will be.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    Daniel always eagerly awaited the return of Charles during school holidays, but one Easter, instead of coming home, Charles sent a postcard from the Lake District to tell him that the whole family was staying in a lodge near Lake Windermere and would be walking the fells and sailing, but he looked forward to seeing Daniel again in the summer.
    ‘Lucky beggar,’ Daniel said, after reading the card to his mother and sisters. ‘Look at those mountains.’ He showed them the sepia photograph. ‘How high they are! Have you ever seen such high mountains, Ma?’
    ‘Me!’ Harriet laughed. ‘No. Nor likely to. Top of this dale is as high as I’ll ever get.’ She looked closely at the picture. ‘You’d have to have strong legs to get up those hills.’
    ‘Maybe they’ll ride mountain ponies.’ Maria looked over Daniel’s shoulder. ‘Did you say that ’whole family have gone?’
    Daniel glanced at her. ‘Yes, all of them.’ He gave her a smile; he knew who she was really asking about.
    Maria nodded, and then Dolly said, ‘They must be really, really rich for all of them to go off on holiday, especially to somewhere so far away.’
    Harriet cast her eyes