Page 116 of The Stranger in Room Six
1945
When Mabel got back to England, she was physically and emotionally drained, hardly able to put one foot in front of the other. Thank heavens for Cook and her warm welcoming hug.
But then her old friend (she was so much more than staff) looked at Mabel nervously, before handing her a telegram. ‘It arrived a few days ago but I didn’t like to open it.’
Heart thumping, Mabel tore open the envelope.
Delayed in Jerusalem but escaped terrible bombing. On way back. Have surprise.
Papa was safe! As for the surprise, was it possible that maybe he had somehow found Antonio? Although he had said there was ‘nothing we can do’ to trace her son, it wasn’t inconceivable, was it, that he had come across the father of her child? There were so many stories about people being reunited.
Mabel could scarcely breathe for excitement. The following week, shortly before their first guest was due to arrive at the newly converted Old Rectory, a large shiny black car crunched up the gravel drive. Her father got out, but before she could run towards him, he opened the passenger door. A tall, elegant woman emerged and took his arm.
Together they walked up the steps of the Old Rectory.
‘Mabel, darling.’ He held her in his arms and then stepped back. ‘Allow me to introduce my wife.’
‘Your wife?’ she gasped.
‘We met in Jerusalem,’ the woman gushed.
Her father had his arm around her. ‘Diana was working in the special forces team. We got along famously, didn’t we, darling?’
Papa didn’t even sound like Papa. He seemed like a besotted young man. ‘I could not believe it when she did me the honour of accepting my proposal. The war has made me realize that you have to seize happiness when it comes along.’
‘Yes,’ said Mabel numbly.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘How thoughtless of me. Is there any news of Antonio?’
He spoke as if Diana knew all about him. Mabel couldn’t help feeling surprised that her father had moved on after Mama’s death. This woman, with her coquettish air and glamorous clothes, was so different.
Briefly, Mabel described how she had just come back from Italy, looking for him. ‘I’m afraid you are one of many who can’t find loved ones,’ commented Diana.
How unfeeling! ‘The worst of it was that I don’t know if his family survived,’ said Mabel sharply.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Papa said, giving her a brief hug. ‘Now, I’ve spoken to Diana and she would be happy for you to live with us. She has a house in Cheyne Walk.’
‘Yes,’ her voice tinkled. ‘Miraculously, it survived the war.’
Mabel winced, thinking of their own ruined home with Mama and Annabel’s bodies underneath.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘However, Clarissa left me the Old Rectory and we’re opening it up as a convalescent home for those who have suffered in the war.’
Diana looked horrified. ‘Strangers? But you don’t know what kind of people you’ll get.’
‘People who need love and comfort,’ said Mabel firmly.
‘I’m very proud of you,’ said her father, and for a minute Mabel got a glimpse of the Papa she had known.
‘Darling,’ whined Diana. ‘May we go inside and rest? I’m exhausted.’
‘Of course,’ he said, as if he, rather than Mabel, owned the house. ‘Let’s all go in, shall we?’
‘Well,’ said Cook when they left two days later. ‘If there’s any proof that a man can lose his head, we’ve just seen it. Are you all right, love?’
Mabel nodded, still stunned by Papa’s ‘surprise’. Naturally she was happy for him but she couldn’t warm to Diana.
‘Good. Then let’s continue with what we were doing before, shall we? We’ve only got a week until our first guests arrive!’
