Josephine scornfully. ‘I don’t think I could ever forgive someone who left me so unnecessarily, no matter how much I loved them – and I’m financially independent. From what you say, she’s got a tough time ahead.’
‘Pa will look after her – he always has. And Jago – he and his wife were good friends with the parents, and he’ll do what he can for Morwenna.’ They turned off the main road and followed a narrow lane which ran closer to the sea. Ferns of every description lined the roadside, and the hedgerows were filled with campion and bluebells – as beautiful in their natural setting as they had been sinister a few moments before. ‘Pa won’t tell you this himself, but he saved Loveday’s life when she was a little girl,’ Ronnie explained. ‘There was a fire at their cottage one night a few years back – a spark must have caught in the thatch and it went up like a beacon. Pa saw it across the park and got there as soon as he could with a couple of men from the stables. He found Loveday crouching by the stairs while another man dragged Harry unconscious from his room, but it was too late for the parents – they both died in their beds.’
‘Good God – that’s awful.’
‘I know. It makes you wonder what the family did in a former life, doesn’t it?’
‘Where was the other sister?’
‘Morwenna? She was away from home, thank God. She’d started to work at the Union over in Helston by then. It’s a sort of poorhouse-cum-refuge, and she was on a night shift. As you can imagine, she’s had her share of shocks in life, and she’s still a way off thirty. So you’re right, I suppose – Harry’s recklessness was selfish.’
‘Things could have been so much worse if it hadn’t been for your father, though.’
‘Yes, although he always shakes it off. He didn’t even tell Lettice and me that he was the one who’d saved them – we found out from the Snipe, who found out from her brother-in-law. He’s always taken his responsibilities to that estate and everyone on it very personally – although I think diving into burning buildings is carrying things too far. He won’t be told, though. He’s paid for Harry’s funeral, of course, and he’ll find a way to ensure that Loveday and Morwenna are all right without making them feel like charity cases.’
‘It must be a nightmare overseeing something that size,’ said Josephine, thinking of all the once grand estates that she read about which had fallen on hard times in recent years, ‘especially since the war. And I can’t imagine anything worse than having all those livelihoods dependent upon you.’
‘It is difficult,’ Ronnie admitted. ‘God knows how many people live and work on the estate, and I don’t even want to think about what’s going to happen when Pa’s gone. I can’t see that Lettice and I have inherited sufficient stoicism and dedication to carry on what he does, and Archie certainly wouldn’t want it. Touch wood, though, he’s got more energy than people half his age, and he works twice as hard.’
‘And that you have inherited from him. I’m looking forwardto meeting your father – I want to see what else I can trace back to him.’
‘I think you’ll find there’s quite a bit of him in each of us. And a lot of my mother, too, of course. We’ve been lucky with both of them.’
Not for the first time, Josephine reflected on the degree to which life had blessed the Motley sisters with exactly the right balance of comfort, eccentricity and tragedy for them to flourish in the theatrical world they had chosen to make their living from. She knew that their mother, Veronique, had died when they were still young, grief-stricken by the death of her eldest child, Teddy, who had gone down with his ship before the war was six months old, but she had often heard them speak of her and knew how much they had been influenced by her creativity and flouting of convention. She remembered Lettice once telling her