Summer's Awakening by Anne Weale Read Free Book Online

other, the muffled sniggers.
    Suddenly she thought of the old people's houses at the far end of the village; a complex of low-rent bungalows built round a communal social centre and the house of the Warden and his wife whom the residents could contact if they were taken ill or needed any kind of help.
    Half an hour later, with everything eatable, except eggs and vegetables, packed in a large cardboard box balanced on and tied to her bicycle basket, she set out for the old people's community centre.
    The comfortable room where whist drives and other activities were held was never locked during the day although there was seldom anyone there before mid-morning. Summer knew that a number of local farmers wives left surplus produce there and other people took old magazines, unwanted paperbacks and anything else which might be useful. If any of the old folk happened to see her arriving with a large box and leaving without it, they wouldn't pay much attention and the contents would be distributed by the Warden to the most suitable recipients.
    'James has gone to London,' said Emily, when Summer arrived at the Castle. 'I wish we could have gone with him,' she added wistfully.
    She had often begged her mother to take her, but had always been refused on the grounds that the traffic fumes would activate her asthma and that, in any case, Lady Edgedale would be too busy to take her sightseeing. To the suggestion that Summer could do that, her mother had again demurred.
    The family's town house had been demolished by a bomb during the air raids of the Second World War. After the war a block of flats had been built on the site, one of which they used as a pied-à-terre. But it wasn't large enough to accommodate Lady Edgedale, her Spanish maid, her daughter and her daughter's tutor. Or so she said. Summer suspected that she hadn't wished to be encumbered with them. Dr Dyer had been right in describing her interest in her child as perfunctory. She had gone through the motions of being a fond mother while at Cranmere, but in London she wanted to concentrate on shopping and social engagements.
    'Did your uncle spend the evening with you?' Summer asked.
    'Part of it. Mr Darblay, the lawyer, stayed the night. I had dinner with them, but afterwards they had more business things to discuss. Instead of Mr Darblay going back on the train this morning, he's gone with James in the car he hired at the airport. James has to see Granpa's stockbroker and his bankers. He's afraid there are going to be tax problems which he'll try to explain when he gets back. It's something to do with Granpa not expecting Daddy to die before he did.'
    From time to time Summer had read newspaper articles about the crippling death duties and the tax on repairs which put the future of many of Britain's historic houses in jeopardy. She wished now she had studied the articles with closer attention.
    In their unfinished conversation yesterday morning James Gardiner had not made it clear if, as well as disclaiming the title, he meant to cede his claim on the estate. He had said his disclaimer wouldn't be publicised till he had left the country, which suggested that he didn't mean to stay in England long.
    On the other hand, he had told her his second reason for coming to England was to take responsibility for his niece till she could fend for herself. The two statements seemed contradictory. How could he protect Emily's interests from the other side of the Atlantic?
    'I wonder if, unbeknown to your grandfather, your father and your uncle kept in touch with each other?' she speculated aloud.
    'I shouldn't think so,' said Emily. 'In fact, no... I'm sure they didn't. The first time I heard him mentioned was after Mummy had been to London and met a man who had been at Eton with James and who asked her about him. That was why she asked Daddy if he thought James was still alive and would ever come back. I remember he said, "God knows", and then, "Certainly not while Father's alive". I