Anna's Return Read online

  What, thought Anna, if they thought they could get away with even more? She felt guilty for distrusting them. Neither had been anything other than polite to her since she arrived. It was only one complaint after all, and from a man who was known to spend most of his life drunk.

  Nevertheless, she had the hotel to think about. Janek had placed great trust in her. Anna was acutely aware that not all the staff was as easy-going as Florentyna about her being promoted to housekeeper so quickly. It put pressure on her to earn her place in the role.

  Thinking carefully about how she might word the complaint to the two young men, Anna went downstairs to the foyer. Reg was on the desk, dealing with two new guests who had come to the hotel for lunch. They were a young man and woman in their early twenties. The girl was particularly noticeable, with glorious auburn hair and pretty freckles. The young man was studious looking, with thick horn-rimmed glasses.

  As always Reg Turner was charm personified.

  “And if there’s anything you need, Mr. Harrington, you only need to ask. We aim to please at Carmichaels.”

  “Thank you,” said the young man. “Of course, I’ve been here plenty of times, but it’s Miss McDonald’s first time. Isn’t it, Isobel?”

  “Yes, I’ve always wanted to come here,” said the young woman. Her voice had a warm, Scottish lilt, yet she seemed ill at ease in her surroundings. Just as Anna had the first time she stepped into Carmichaels. Even though Anna did not know the girl, she warmed to her as a kindred spirit.

  “Well, Miss, you have a good time, and tell all your friends about Carmichaels.”

  “Oh I’ll be sending out hundreds of letters to tell everyone I know that I visited,” Miss McDonald smiled.

  The girl and her male friend turned to go into the restaurant, and it was then that the girl saw Anna. She stopped dead, to the point that the couple behind who were moving towards the reception desk almost bumped into her. “Sorry,” the girl said, with a shy smile.

  “Come along, Isobel,” said Harrington, sounding peeved. “Really, there’s no need to be quite so nervous.”

  “No, it’s not that,” said Isobel, as he drew her away. “I just thought I saw…” Her voice trailed away as they entered the bustling dining room.

  Anna waited until Reg was free and asked him to accompany her to the back office.

  “Is something wrong, Anna?” he asked.

  “Oh no,” she said, with a smile, hoping he would not see how worried she really was. “It’s just that … well I wondered if Major Dalrymple made a complaint to you this morning.”

  “Old Dalrymple, I don’t think so? Why?”

  “Oh he said something to me about his whisky tasting watered down.”

  “I’d be surprised if he could tell, the amount he drinks,” said Reg, laughing. Anna laughed too, but she was still troubled. That was pretty much what Florentyna had said. Almost as if it had been rehearsed.

  “You’re probably right,” said Anna. “I wouldn’t like to think the supplier was short-changing us though.” She had decided on that explanation for her concern on the way downstairs. That way it did not seem as if she were accusing anyone in the hotel.

  “I’ll keep an eye on the situation,” said Reg. “It might have been just a bad batch.”

  “Yes, I’m sure that’s all it was. I thought I’d mention it.”

  “Of course, Anna, you did the right thing. We want to keep the guests happy here, don’t we?”

  She agreed with a smile. Reg returned to his work, and Anna took a moment to compose herself. She was surprised to realise she felt great relief that things had not been worse. Reg might have taken umbrage at her question and with good reason if he were totally innocent.

  She decided to take a walk. She had been cooped up in the hotel for too long, and needed some fresh air.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “So,” said George Harrington, “what do you want to eat, Isobel? My treat. Isobel?”

  Izzy was not listening. The dining room was only separated from the foyer by a large archway, and it was through this archway that Izzy was looking, hoping to catch a glimpse of the beautiful dark haired girl again. She was sure it was Teddy’s sister – the girl certainly looked similar to the one in Teddy’s photograph – but had been too shy to ask. That was partly due to the surroundings, and partly due to her nerves over being asked out by George Harrington. Besides one did not go up to complete strangers and ask if they were the runaway sister of one’s friend.

  Izzy thought George would never ask her out, but now that he had, she was not exactly enjoying the experience. The scene at the desk had been a case in point. Did he have to tell the whole world that she was not used to dining in style? Or that by comparison he was very practised in the art? It had been much the same all morning. They had gone to the National Gallery where he had patronised her repeatedly about the artwork on show. At one point, she snapped, “George, I may be from the poor side of Edinburgh but I do know a Van Gogh when I see one.”

  She could not help thinking that Teddy would never treat her in such a way. Even though he was the son of a knight, he had always talked to Izzy as an equal. Or mostly in a way that suggested he thought her better than he was. This was rather sweet really.

  She had not seen him since their trip to Filey. As soon as they returned, he had to back to boarding school and Izzy’s services as a nurse were no longer needed at Silverton Hall on account of Sir Lionel’s health improving. That was over two years ago, and she was forced to admit that she missed his friendship. And his dog-like devotion, she thought with a wry grin. There was something rather nice about being adored. No doubt, all these months later, he would be showing the same dog-like devotion to a girl at school. Izzy did not know why this should bother her. He was probably still too young for her, even though he would be over eighteen by now. They had written to each other a few times, but their worlds seemed to have diverged somewhat.

  “Are you with me or not, Isobel?” George said with a sigh.

  “I’m sitting here, aren’t I?” she said, brightly. But just at that moment, the pretty dark haired girl came out of the office and went out through the front door. Izzy feared she might have lost her. If she had been a guest who called in briefly to make a complaint then she may not return that day, and Izzy had no idea where to start looking. “Excuse me one minute, George,” she said, coming to a decision.

  Izzy got up and went to the reception desk. “Excuse me.”

  “Yes, what can I do to help you, Miss?” The desk clerk asked. He was a handsome young man, and his name on his lapel said ‘Reginald Turner’.

  “I wondered. That girl. The really pretty one with dark hair. Her name is not Anna Silverton, is it?”

  A cloud passed over the man’s eyes, and he seemed to undergo some thought process, albeit very quickly. “No, that’s Miss Palmer.”

  “Oh right,” said Izzy, feeling sure he had lied for some reason. There was something about his manner that seemed strange. But it was not as if he were protecting the dark haired girl. Far from it. Izzy could not put her finger on it, but it felt very much as if he was storing the information about the name Anna Silverton away, for some other purpose.

  Realising she was behaving like a character in a spy novel, Izzy smiled and said, “Sorry to bother you. Thank you.”

  It was only an hour later, when she and George were saying a strained goodbye on Tower Bridge that she remembered that Teddy’s ex-housekeeper, Mrs. Stephens used to be called Mrs. Palmer and she and Anna were very close. What better name to use than Anna Palmer?

  When George had gone, Izzy stood on Tower Bridge for a while, trying to decide what to do. She thought about telephoning Teddy at the teaching hospital in Wales where he was training to be a doctor. She knew from his letters that he had fought something of a battle with his mother, who tried to insist that if he was to be a doctor, he should at least attend Oxford or Cambridge and become a physician of great renown, perhaps even tending the Queen
and her family. Teddy had refused, saying that to go to either university meant three years of degree work before he even got to see a real patient. He wanted to be at the forefront of medicine, he had told Izzy in a letter, not taking care of spoiled rich women who suffered with nervous tension. “I want to help those who genuinely need it,” he said.

  Izzy looked inside herself and asked a searching question. Did she want to telephone Teddy to tell him she may have seen his sister? Or did she want to telephone him because she missed his friendship and wanted to hear his voice again? Sighing, she stood looking out over the Thames. Perhaps both were valid reasons. After all, if it was Anna that she saw, he would want to know. But what about after she had told him? What then? Would he just thank her and put the phone down? Or would he want to see her? And if he did not ask to see her, how might she feel?

  “Oh you’re an idiot, Izzy,” she told herself. “Two years ago he was yours for the taking, but oh no, you had to be the sensible one.” Not that she would have done things differently. He was only sixteen at the time. “Right,” she said, not noticing the funny looks from people who saw her talking to herself, “I’ll telephone him and not expect anything else. That would be the proper thing. He would want to know about his sister.”

  She managed to find a few coins, and a phone box. She had the number of Teddy’s halls of residence in her handbag. It was only when she was halfway through dialling the number that it occurred to her he may not even be there. He could be in class. Or out with his friends. Or out with another girl. “Get a grip, Izzy,” she muttered, as the sound of ringing started in the earpiece.

  Of course, Teddy was not the one who answered, and there was an agonising wait whilst the young man who did answer went in search of him. As it turned out there was very little money left in the phone by the time Teddy did answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Teddy, it’s Izzy. This’ll have to be quick. I’m in London and I think I’ve just seen Anna…” It was at that point the line went dead.

  Chapter Twenty

  Janek watched Anna from his balcony, her glossy black hair shining in the morning sunlight as she walked back to the hotel. He had returned whilst she was out walking, and his first thought on arriving back at Carmichaels had been of seeing her. In fact, his thoughts all the time he was away were of Anna.

  Despite his pleasure at seeing her again, he was troubled. There had been no question that he would help Anna when the Voronins asked him two years earlier. He would never see her out on the streets, and she had been so dazed by the sudden defection of people she thought of as family, he had been afraid she would not be able to focus on finding somewhere else quickly. Thankfully for her peace of mind, the Voronins had written to her from exile as soon as they could, asking her forgiveness. Being the girl she was, she forgave them without question.

  “It must have been so hard for them, worrying all the time about being sent back to Russia,” she confided in Janek. “I thought it was just … oh a ghost story … like tales of the bogeyman. I had no idea just how terrified they were. They liked living in the west with all the freedom that entailed, and I think they wanted Nicky to grow up in a free country.”

  “It is difficult to completely give up your home,” Janek said, with fellow feeling for the Voronins. With the situation as it was in Poland, he could not return either and wondered if he ever might. “It was a very brave decision for them. I hope they find the freedom they craved.”

  Once she had heard from her friends, Anna settled into working at Carmichaels better. Janek suspected that for a while she waited for a call from them, to tell her it had all been a mistake and she could return to her job. Even though Janek knew it was rather selfish of him, he was relieved when they did not.

  But he had inadvertently made things strained between himself and Anna. He knew that the rest of the staff gossiped about her relatively quick promotion to housekeeper. As far as Janek was concerned, she deserved the job, and she was very good at it, but others did not see it that way. Therefore, he did not want to fuel that fire by being seen talking to her too often. He did not much care about his own reputation – he was worldly wise enough to realise that men were never totally ruined by gossip in the way women were. But he cared deeply about Anna’s reputation. He knew how cruel the world could be about successful, intelligent women.

  That did not solve the problem of how he could spend time with her without inciting gossip, which was something he dearly wanted to do. Her blossoming, which had begun under the care of Madame Voronina had continued during her time at Carmichaels. She had become a confident young woman, which only added to her beauty. But she was also kind and thoughtful. Even the staff who gossiped about her could not put their hands on their hearts and say they did not like her.

  “Oh just ask her,” he muttered to himself. “Never mind what others think.” Except he did mind, for her sake.

  “Talking to yourself, darling?” said a voice from behind him. It was Mary Carmichael. Janek was struck by how very hard Mary tried to look attractive, compared to Anna who hardly tried at all, and yet was ten times lovelier. He pushed the unkind thought aside. It was not Mary’s fault she was not Anna.

  “Mary! I didn’t hear you arrive.”

  “I wanted to surprise you, darling.” Mary threw her coat over the back of a chair and sat down at the patio table. “Scotland was so boring without you, and you never come up to see us anymore.”

  Janek smiled. “Mike may sleep as much as he likes in this partnership. Unfortunately I have to work.”

  “You work too hard. Everyone says so, including my brother. This is why I’ve come down to rescue you. What about a show, and dinner afterwards? Dancing even. You remember how to dance, don’t you?”

  “Vaguely.”

  “Do you remember how to kiss?” Mary crossed her legs in a sultry fashion.

  “I thought we agreed, Mary…Or at least you did. You had other fish to fry.” There was nothing bitter about the way Janek spoke. In fact he smiled indulgently as he said it. He was well aware of Mary’s fickle nature, and did not resent his part of one of her flash in the pan love affairs.

  “Oh that was then. I’ve made a dreadful mistake, darling. Can we try again?”

  “No, things have changed. I’ve changed, Mary.”

  “So I’ve heard. The staff here does like to gossip you know.”

  Janek’s smile faded. “Really.”

  “Yes, about you and the housekeeper. She’s that girl you escaped from France with, isn’t she? The one we met in Hyde Park, with that funny little Russian boy. Honestly darling, it’s very naughty, fraternising with the staff. You must know that.”

  “I am aware of that,” said Janek, biting down the anger he felt about Mary pinpointing his own concerns. It only proved to him that he was right to keep Anna at a distance. He hated the idea of people talking about her in such a way. “The staff – and you – have got it entirely wrong. Me and Anna are friends, nothing more. So perhaps the next time you join in the gossip, you could add that to the story.”

  “Oh now you’re sulking and you’ll be no good to me whatsoever. I’m going shopping.” Mary stood up, smiling smugly. Janek had the distinct impression that Mary’s plan, whatever it was, hard worked. “Let me know about dinner and a show later, when you’ve made up your mind. Hmm?”

  Janek was about to ask her what she meant by ‘made up your mind’ but he already knew Mary was not really talking about dinner and a show. It was possible that Mary only wanted him because she thought she could not have him.

  At that moment it seemed as if a cloud passed in front of the sun, and a shiver trickled down his spine. Mary was a nice enough girl most of the time, but she did not like to be thwarted in love. If she had made up her mind to have him, then she intended it to happen. She might even add fuel to the flames of gossip running around the hotel. He had no choice but to keep his relationship with Anna on a purely professional footing. Gossip was bad enough. But Mary’
s claws were sharper than any of the staff’s tongues, and he did not want Anna to be wounded by her.

  His decision meant that when he went to Anna’s office later that day, he was much cooler with her than he intended to be.

  “How are things?” he asked. “No problems with the staff?”

  “No problems at all. They’re very good staff, Jan … Mr. Dabrowski,” said Anna, who always reverted to his formal name when they talked business. She looked bemused. Normally he asked about her first, and then the business. Despite her answer, he sensed she was holding something back.

  “If there’s anything I should know…”

  “No, nothing at all. I’ll come to you if there are any problems.”

  “Very well. Don’t let me keep you from your work any longer.”

  It felt to Janek as though an eight foot high glass wall had been erected between them. He told himself as he left her office that he was doing it to protect her. But part of him wondered how much he was guarding his own heart against being hurt. He had lost everyone he loved before the war, and despite his success and the fact that he if anyone asked him he would have said he was happy, he had a deep seated fear of losing another loved one. Perhaps that was why he had avoided falling in love. He thought of Anna, looking bemused in her office, and knew that he had already failed to keep his heart safe.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Anna could not help wondering what she might have done to annoy Janek. He had seemed very tense when he came to see her. Was it possible that Dalrymple had complained to him and he thought she was neglecting her duties by not mentioning it?

  She struggled to concentrate on her work for the rest of the day. Perhaps she should say something? She had not yet spoken to Vince O’Brian. He might be able to shed light on it. The more Anna thought about it, the more she hated mistrusting her work colleagues. She knew what it was to be falsely accused, and she could not bear the thought of making someone else feel the pain of suspicion.