Maman!
This time, the voice was not Madeleine’s. This voice came from the other side of the bed, beyond Olivier, from the doorway. A head of fluffy golden-brown hair, a pair of straight, dark eyebrows. Blue eyes like the English sky after the rain.
Daisy whispered, Christine!
“Oh, Maman! I’m so sorry. The flight was cancelled, and then I got lost in the hospital, went down the wrong corridor . . .”
The words flowed on. Her chatty baby, her bright Christine, words and images bursting from her seams. She was just finishing up her final year at McGill, studying art and English; she couldn’t decide which she liked more. Her father’s daughter. There was so much of Kit inside her. Sometimes, to Daisy, it had seemed like Kit was there in the room whenever Christine was near.
Daisy’s lips moved. The words didn’t seem to come out anymore, but she said them anyway.
I love you.
“I love you, too, Maman.” Christine smoothed her hair on the pillow. A tear dripped from her eye onto Daisy’s ear. “I love you so much.”
A scent drifted past, the smell of pipe tobacco.
Daisy closed her eyes and slept.
Chapter Thirty-One
Babs
Langford Hall
Devonshire, England
July 1964
I opened my eyes as the train pulled into the station. I hadn’t slept at all on the two long train rides from Paris to Ashprington, hearing Precious’s voice every time I closed my eyes. I began imagining that if I looked in the seat next to mine, I’d find her there, or Drew, waiting for me to do something. I just wasn’t sure what that might be.
I stepped off the train with my new valise—Precious had insisted I take one of hers so that my new clothes wouldn’t revolt—and looked down the platform for Diana, who’d promised to fetch me and bring me back to Langford Hall. I spotted her petite elegant form walking quickly down the platform toward me—my smile and greeting dying on my lips as she walked right past me.
“Diana?”
She spun around looking everywhere but at me.
“Diana!” I said again and this time her eyes settled on me, briefly widening in recognition.
“Babs! Good heavens—is it really you?”
After getting over the initial shock of my own sister not recognizing me, I smiled. “Yes, Diana, it really is. Still the same Babs beneath all the new clothes, though, I can assure you.”
She raised an eyebrow at that, as if not quite believing me. It reminded me of something Precious had said, about how when I wore the right clothes I held my chin differently, as if I were a woman to be reckoned with. Diana had always known that. It had just taken me a little longer to figure it out.
“Well, you look absolutely amazing. I can’t wait to show you off. Maybe I’ll have a sort of debut party for you and invite all of our friends. The women will be green with envy.”
“Thank you, Diana, but I assure you that won’t be necessary. I really just want to enjoy being home again.” Which was true, but I could no longer imagine myself slipping back into my old life, the Babs I’d been before Paris.
After my valise was stored in the boot of her roadster and we were speeding down the road, I asked, “How is everything in Ashprington?” although when she started answering I realized that I wasn’t all that interested in knowing.
“The gymkhana is next week, but I’ve already done all the organizing so you won’t have to worry about any of that. Just come and hand out ribbons, if you will. And there’s been quite an uproar at the WI about whether or not we should allow men into our ranks. It’s a good thing you’re back so you can settle all the ruffled feathers.”
She continued to speak as my mind wandered. I kept seeing Drew’s grin and thinking about how we’d both come to France to shake up our lives. I hoped he’d succeeded. Perhaps not in the way he’d hoped, but at least partially. My heart still ached when I thought of him, which seemed to be all the time. Your big, generous heart. It’s what I love most about you. I tried not to think about that, or Drew, at all. But that was like telling the tide to stay out, or the sun not to rise. All foolishness, really.
I became aware of Diana waiting for me to say something. “I’m sorry—what did you say?”
“I was asking you if you’d decided what to do with Langford Hall. The Dower House is lovely, and it’s quite silly for you to ramble around the hall all by yourself with the children gone. Not to mention the expense of upkeep. I don’t know how you manage, Babs, I really don’t.”