Scandal in a Distinguished English Family

SCANDAL IN A GENTLE FAMILY

Its the end! cried Lillian, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a pristine lace handkerchief. Her sigh rolled through the sunlit drawing room with such melodrama that her husband, Edgar, snapped his newspaper and looked up, alarmed.

Lilian, darling, what is it? Your tincture again?

Oh, do leave your medicines alone, Ed! Havent you any sense? This is disgracefulutterly mortifying! Our whole familys reputationruined! Just look at her! Not a hint of remorse!

The familys sole heiress, Elspeth Ashton, did not, in fact, look remotely contrite. She did not tear at her hair or wail, nor did she dissolve into a tragic puddle of tears. Instead, with one impossibly elegant leg hooked over the balustrade of the conservatory (a leg, her mother swore, was the very image of her grandmothersthe celebrated prima at Covent Garden), Elspeth was eating Morello cherries. Each stone, once spat from her lips, arced with precision into the rhododendrons, earning from her mother a gasp of horror every time.

Elspeth! Quite enough! Do you not see we are in the midst of a crisis? Are you completely heartless?!

Lillian threw her hands up and departed to seek the comfort of her tincture.

Elspeth, darling, you cant be serious? Edgars hopeful look followed his daughter before he trailed after his wife.

Im deadly serious, Dad! Please, tell Mum all her matchmaking is pointless. I will not marry Laurenceshes to abandon any hope of that.

Youll break her heart, my girl.

Oh, dont be so dramatic, Dad.

Maybe give it more thought?

Theres none to give. I told him todayand thats that. No wedding.

Oh, calamity

Another wail echoed from the parlour; Edgar dashed off to comfort Lillian. Elspeth, resigned, plucked another cherry.

Heavens, what shall I tell everyone? Its ghastly! The caterers booked, the invitations sent…

I didnt ask you to send invitations, sang Elspeth, not raising her voice. Your decisions, your mess to mop up!

Its cruel, my dear! I only wanted whats best!

And, as ever, its gone so well I have my own plans, Mother! Dismal, isnt it?

Elspeth! Lillian squeaked and sobbed again.

Nothing at all, for now, Elspeth replied, gathering the neglected tea cups. I can wash three cups without catastrophe.

She swept the cups into the kitchen while Lillian, setting aside her handkerchief, declared with martyrdom, She is exactly your mother! Exactly those turns of phrase! Oh, Edgar, why must I bear this?

The legendary matriarch, Rosalind Ashton, was not a spirit Lillian had ever tolerated well; Lillian, mature and wise, had expected nothing but respect from her formidable mother-in-law. Alas, Rosalind was singularly unimpressed by any newcomers; her style was immutable.

Lily, love, is that a new scent? she would murmur, pinching her nose discreetly as Lillian entered the room.

My new perfume. You disapprove?

Not at all, darling, but does it require the entire bottle? A dab at the wrists would do.

Lillianwho did favour a heavy hand with scentpursed her lips in wounded frustration.

What have I ever done to her? shed lament to Edgar.

Lily, Mums like that with everyonedont take it to heart.

She ought to change, or I cant answer for myself! And dont call me love, I hate that.

Naturally, Rosalind adjusted nothing for Lillians benefit, and her sharp remarks caused more than one cold silence between Edgar and his mother, until, at the theatre, someone once told Lillian: My dear, you are the perfect lady! Thanks to Rosalind, no doubtyoure practically her double: so much style, such taste!

The comparison pained Lillian, but the compliment soothed the blow. Rosalind was, after all, the local doyenne, so Lillian was shrewd enough to make her peace, maintaining politeness and even warmthespecially after the birth of Elspeth, whom Rosalind loved with fierce devotion.

In the Ashtons noble household, the air was always faintly perfumed with artistry and ambition. Only Lillian, a dentist, stood outside the family tradition, yet she ruled her quiet domain with practised exactitude. Elspeth was now the darling of both grandmother and father; Lillian, strict, silently dreamed a grander future for her daughter.

Lillian never shared her pastnot even with Edgar, who understood enough to stop asking. She had, years ago, burned every bridge; in her locket there remained only a picture of a bright-eyed, curly-headed little boy. She never opened it, never dared. Her sonjust twohad been left in his grandmothers care one sweltering summer afternoon in Cambridge; windows flung wide, his cot moved to catch the breeze… The pain of his loss nearly destroyed Lillian. She blamed herself for not taking a career break, for leaving for an exam that day, for returning to a home absent of joy from that moment on.

Her marriage crumbled soon after. The expeditionary husband, who didnt arrive even for the funeral, departed quietly. Lillian packed a modest suitcase the day her divorce papers arrived and left for London, feeling already a century old.

Then Edgar arrived, one rain-misted morning, clutching his swollen jaw.

How longs this been going on?

A week or more, Im afraid.

Honestly! Youre a grown man and know nothing! Lillians irritation covered her sadness.

Youre rightI havent a clue, grimaced Edgar through pain, yet his smile struck something soft in Lillian shed forgotten was there.

For the first time in many years, her hands felt deft and gentle as she worked. Without much conversation, Edgar walked her home for more than a year before proposing.

I love being with you… But I dont know if I can make you happy.

Why not?

Idont want children.

She told him her reasons, sparing the details. You should think about it. Speak to your mothershes wise. Make up your own mind.

He didnt, of course; Rosalind wasnt prone to giving counsel, least of all to sons grown well past advice. Only Clive, much later, and Lillian, in the end, received her candid wisdom.

When Edgar told Rosalind everything, she stirred her coffee with a ring-heavy hand, ashen at his tale. At last she asked,

Do you love her?

Yes.

Then dont waste another thought. Love is a treasure not given to many, and whatever you pay, itll never be dear enough. True treasure is heavybut youll have the strength, if you keep your eyes open to its worth.

Do you really think so?

I know so.

Thus it was settled. Edgar brought Lillian to Rosalind, who greeted her new daughter-in-law with a peck on the cheek and drove her straight to her dressmaker. Later, from an ancient sideboard, she produced an old velvet box.

Here, my dear, Ashton family jewels.

Ioh, I couldnt possibly

You will. Youre family now, and I wont hear otherwise. But wear them with sense.

In what way?

My grandmother used to saynever wear diamonds to Brixton Market. Unless youre in Brighton, of coursethen all is permitted, so the fishmongers quake with envy and drop their prices for such a stunning lady.

To her delight, Lillian found herself laughing, though she thought shed forgotten how. Rosalind taught her, Lillian grumbledbut grateful, deep inside.

When Lillian discovered she was pregnant, the first to know was Rosalind, not Edgar.

Youre looking peakywhats going on? Rosalind, just returned from another adventure with her latest husband, pounced on poor Lillian, who fled to the loo. Rosalind, ever sharp, put the pieces together at once.

Youll give birth with Dr. Sophie. Shes the best. I trust her. Now, why so frightened?

Im not sure I can

Lillian, Ill break form for once: dont be daft! Thank heaven, fate, whoever, and get on with it! I wont take my eyes off you or your babyever! Understand?

Yes Thank you.

Save your thanks for when Im an old bat who plagues your peace. Then remember this and repeat it for me, all right?

Yes, alright.

Elspeth Ashton arrived on timehealthy, outrageously loud. Rosalind peeled back her lacy blanket at the hospital door, cackled, and declared her flawless.

Rosalind kept her promiseno better helper was ever found. The grande dame everyone knew as the queen of society tossed aside her fur coat, filled the tub, grated Sunlight soap to dust, and washed nappies by hand. Then shed wash Elspeth, crowing over her toes, My precious, my treasure! May you always be well!

Arguments and old pains faded. Lillian, at last, had what she so desperately cravedfamily, home, a brittle, precious peace.

Of course, she never forgot her lost boy. Edgar took her back to Cambridge twice yearly, though Lillian stayed outside townnever visiting her old house, never seeking her mother. Only Rosalind knew, when a letter from Lillians past appeared, what it said.

Go, Rosalind urged her. Youll never forget, nor likely forgive. But shes your motherremember the good, too. No ones an angel. Every one of us makes mistakesgrave ones. You, me. I wont ask you to forgive overnightdo as you must. But you need this, more than she. Linger in guilt, and Elspeth will suffer. Whatever you decide, I stand by you.

The meeting was brief; her mother surfaced barely long enough to grasp Lillians hand and gasp, Forgive me.

Back home, Rosalind nodded. Well done. The proper thing.

Peace, it seemed, was finally theirs. Yet Lillian, wound tight in new anxieties, hovered over Elspeth like a sparrow hawk.

You smother Elspethshe needs friends, freedom, Edgar urged.

I dont see your point.

Let her be. Shes not porcelain.

Lillian flared. Easy for you to say! What ifanythingwere to happen? I couldnt survive another loss!

Why must loss be inevitable?

It could happen, any minute! Then what? Agonize for the rest of our lives?

Edgar was at a loss. It was Rosalind who suggested, Send Elspeth to dance lessons.

Ballroom? Shes already drowning in classes.

Drop everything. She needs dance. With a partner.

Is it so vital?

Absolutely.

So Elspeth gained a new hobby, andLaurence. A slightly awkward, chubby boy, paired with Elspeth in the studio. Let them bumble about together, said the teachers, not realizing Elspeth would never linger in corners.

Three years later, theyd won their first trophy. Soon after, they became regulars on the dancing circuit. Laurence had grown tall, poised. Judges suspected a romance; Elspeth grinned slyly, neither confirming nor denying. She didnt know Lillian already plotted her future.

After her final exams, Elspeth announced, Ive chosen. Medicine for me.

Darling, we thought you had very different plans Lillians smile was so strange, Elspeth shivered involuntarily.

What plans? Have I said anything?

No, you never do. But Ive spoken to Laurence and his family.

So?

Weve three months to prepare. An autumn weddinghow charming! Ill speak to Gran about a venue.

Wedding? Elspeth narrowed her eyes. Whos getting married, Laurence?

Silly! Of course you and Laurence. A perfect pair, on and off the floor!

Did you think to consult me?

I assumed its settled, love.

Dont call me love! snapped Elspeth.

Grabbing her bag, she stormed out, off to her grandmothers. Rosalind was unsentimental. What did you expect? Elspeth is not your doll. You dont dress her up and march her to the altar just so!

Shes my child! I want her happy. Laurence loves her!

But does she love him?

I know whats best! Shes too young to know!

She wants to be a surgeon. A fine aim. Whats wrong with that?

Everything! She can studyafter shes married. Then Ill sleep at night!

How does that help? Explain.

Shell have a husband! Protector, support! Since they began dancing, Ive slept peacefully.

I understand your fears, Rosalind nodded. But this marriage is a cage golden, pretty, but a cagebecause it’s not her choice, but yours.

This is pointless. The weddings happening.

Really? I think you dont know your daughter at all.

Elspeth stood her ground, moving in with Rosalind. Lillian cut off all contact, and even the news of Elspeths successful acceptance at St Marys came from Edgar.

Lilian, must you cling to anger? Wouldn’t you rather embrace your living daughter than sob on her pillow? I saw her yesterdayshe asked about you.

Oh, Im sure she did!

Finally, Edgar snapped, This is too far! Elspeth is your lifewhy push away what’s most precious? I see your painso why prolong it?

I cant help it! I dont know how to mend things Edgar, I really cant breathe without her Its likeits all dark again, as dark as it was after

Enough. He gripped her shoulders. Elspeth lives. Shes waiting for you. Let go of this illusion that you control everything. Dont turn your daughter into a porcelain rose locked under glass!

Whether it was Edgars anger or his words, Lillian did as he said.

Reconciliation came. What was said between mother and daughter, behind Rosalinds closed door, was never shared. Only their smudged, tear-stained faces and flushed cheeks betrayed their peace.

But fate was not content with a simple happy ending for the Ashton family. Just as Elspeth forged on toward her dreamand Rosalind watched with approvalfate turned and twisted, as always, into the surreal.

Elspeth Ashtonemergency in A&E. Appendicitis. Acute.

She emptied her coffee, stretched, and wandered dreamlike to the ward. Her shift was nearly over, but such cases couldnt wait.

You?

Me Laurence smiled weakly, gripping his side.

All right. Will you trust me?

With my life.

So easy? No drama or final words?

Elspeth, youre hopeless.

Hopelessand happy.

Three years later, Elspeth would swing open the garden gate of her childhood home, a little boy running ahead to the front steps.

Go onshow Granny how fast you can run! Mum, catch him!

Young Patrick squealed, darting for his grandmothers arms.

My golden boy! How Ive missed you!

Mum, hello! Wheres Granny?

Oh, shes gone to Brighton! Off on a new romance, can you believe.

Typical Gran. What does he do?

Artist? Sculptor? Who knowsask her yourself when shes back. And Laurence?

Parking the car.

Splendid! Roasts nearly done, your fathers fumbling with the pie, so wash your hands and join us! Ill pop Patrick down for a nap.

We all know youll stay with him and sing songs.

That so dreadful? Lillian beamed, kissing her grandson.

Its wonderful, Mum.Lillian did stay, curled beside Patrick as his eyelids drooped, singing softly until his breath evened out and he slept. She gazed at his peaceful face, surprised by the absence of fearonly gratitude blooming in her chest, fragile but shining. In the corridor, she heard the clatter of Laurences laughter, Edgars bumbling directions, and Elspeths bright reply, weaving together like music.

Downstairs, the table was laid for supper, sunlight stretching across heirloom silver and tumbling bouquetsan everyday magic neither roses nor diamonds could ever rival. Lillian paused at the stair, letting late-afternoon warmth soak into her skin, and imagined Rosalind somewhere by the sea, wind tangling her hair as she charmed another chapter into her own long story.

For the first time, Lillian did not count the dangers lurking in the shadows, nor did she clutch at memories of what was lost. Instead, she reached for what she hada family not flawless, but fierce in love and forgiveness, stitched close by laughter and the stubborn will to begin again, and again.

She walked into the kitchen, hands empty of burdens, heart carried forward by hope, and took her place at the tablewhere, by some miracle, there was room enough for every kind of happiness.