Fire in the Blood

Chapter One - 1898-2

She could hear Nanny, who was getting old and rather slow, rattling the saucepans.

Although she did not feel at all hungry after the emotional strain of her father’s funeral, she knew that she could not disappoint Nanny by refusing to eat anything she cooked.

“Is that you, Miss Pandia?” Nanny called out as she drew nearer the kitchen.

“I am back,” Pandia replied. “It’s very cold outside!” “I’ve made up the fire in the study for you.”

“I saw you had,” Pandia answered, “and it was sweet of you to remember it. I thought perhaps I could give you a hand in the kitchen.”

“I’m all right,” Nanny said. “You go and get warm. I don’t want you down with a chill.”

There was a touch of panic in her voice with which Pandia was familiar and it was because, as she knew, Nanny had never stopped blaming herself for the cold that had caused her mother’s death.

She felt that somehow she could have made the house warmer and insisted on her mother buying herself a thicker winter coat.

Because she thought that it would please Nanny, Pandia said,

“All right, I will go back to the study. Call me when you are ready.”

Nanny did not answer and she walked back the way she had come, thinking they were very fortunate to have such a large supply of logs piled up outside the back door.

There were also at least three bags of coal in one of the outhouses, but coal was expensive and they used it sparingly.

At the same time Pandia knew she had not only to think of herself but of Nanny, who was getting on for seventy.

She had lived with them ever since she and Selene were born and, Pandia thought now, that she was the only family she had left.

But Nanny, kind and understanding though she was, could not fill the gap that had been left by losing her father.

They had been so close these last years, especially since he had become ill and had talked to her as if she was his contemporary.

“You may look like a woman, my dearest,” he said to her once, “and a very beautiful one at that, but you have the intelligence and the brain of a man. If I had a son, which I would like to have had, he would have been no cleverer than you are.”

“Thank you, Papa, that is a wonderful thing to say to me,” Pandia answered.

She had worked hard to please him and while she and Selene had been taught by a Governess, who fortunately lived in the village, it was with their father they studied all the major subjects.

They learned Greek and other foreign languages, as well as studying English literature and geography.

Geography for them was a very comprehensive subject, for their father believed that to understand the world they must do more than look at a country as if it was a place on the map. They had to learn about the customs and nature of the people who lived in each land and were different from those of every other nation.

Pandia found it all absorbing, though she knew without her putting it into words that it bored Selene.

“I want to meet people, not just learn about them,” she said to Pandia when they were alone. “What is the point of my hearing what wonderful riders the Hungarians are when the only horses I have a chance of riding are no more than hobblers fit only for the knacker’s yard?”

“That is just not true!” Pandia expostulated. “Because Papa and Mama are so popular the farmers are kind to us and the horse I was riding two days ago was so spirited that I had the greatest difficulty in controlling him.”

“I want the best horses,” Selene pouted, “and I want to hunt with a smart pack.”

There was nothing like that in their village.

In fact Bedfordshire was a flat, rather dull County with very few large houses and great stretches of agricultural land which had gained it the nickname of being the ‘Kitchen Garden of England’.

To Pandia it had a strange beauty of its own and she loved the slow-moving River Ouse at the bottom of their garden and the meadows through which it wound its way. There she would find mushrooms in the spring and a profusion of cowslips and, when the fields were white with snow, as they were now, the wild hares went coursing away as soon as she appeared.

But to Selene everything was flat and dull and, looking back Pandia was now not really surprised by the way she went without saying goodbye.

The study seemed to welcome her with a warmth that enveloped her as soon as she opened the door.

She crouched down on the hearth rug saying as she did so,

“I wonder what I am to do now, Papa? Do you think I am clever enough to go on where you left off?”

She almost expected to hear her father’s deep voice reply which, although he spoke perfect English, still had a faint trace of a Hungarian accent in it.

When there was only silence, she gave a little sigh.

“I suppose for the first time in my life I shall have to make up my own mind,” she said, “and that is going to be difficult because I have always relied on you.”

She knew she would never have the strength, or was it the nerve, to do as Selene had done, but she supposed because they were twins they were the complement of each other.

“The other half,” as Nanny often said.

Selene was determined and obstinate, forceful and had a will of iron.

Pandia knew that she was indecisive, gentle, frightened of hurting people and quite incapable of being ruthless or determined if there was any opposition.

‘It is wrong to be like that, I am sure it is,’ she told herself, ‘but there is nothing I can do about it.’

Then she thought that she heard Nanny’s voice calling and, putting the guard in front of the fire, she walked towards the door.

As she reached it, she instinctively looked back to see if her father was sitting comfortably in his armchair and had everything he wanted.

Then, because the chair was empty, she felt a pain in her heart that was physical and wondered how long it would be before she ceased to think of him almost every moment of the day.

She went back into the small hall which she and her mother had painted a pale green because the dark panelling which had been there for ages made it seem small and shabby.

Then, when having closed the door behind her, she would have gone into the kitchen, there came a loud rat-tat on the front door.

Pandia wondered who it was, knowing that anybody from the village would have called at the kitchen door.

It took her only two steps to turn the handle and open it.

For a moment she stood as if turned to stone and thought she must be dreaming.

Standing in the porch was Selene.

She was looking so smart, so exquisitely dressed, enveloped with fur and with ostrich feathers in her fashionable hat, that Pandia was astonished that she instantly recognised her! But Selene’s face was still so like her own that she was unmistakable.

“Selene!”

Somehow the words seemed to be jerked from between her lips and, Selene, almost pushing past her, walked into the hall.

“You are surprised to see me?” she asked.

“Yes, of course,” Pandia answered. “But you are too late. Papa was buried yesterday.”

“I knew that,” Selene replied, “but I have come to see you. Who else is in the house?”

With an effort Pandia shut the front door because the wind was blowing through it.

She was aware as she did so that a very smart carriage drawn by two horses with a coachman and a footman on the box was moving away.

“Only Nanny,” she replied in answer to Selene’s question. “Where is your carriage going?”

She had the frightening feeling that Selene had come home to stay and was wondering if she would be comfortable enough and what they would give her to eat.

“I told them to rest the horses at the inn,” Selene replied. “I suppose it is still there?”

“The Anchor? Yes, of course.”

Pandia thought with relief that they would not have to feed the two men and she said hurriedly,

“Go into the study where it is warm, and I will tell Nanny you are here. I think luncheon is almost ready.”

“I could do with something to eat,” Selene replied. “I had forgotten how far away we lived from London. It has taken me hours to get here!”

She spoke as if it was Pandia’s fault, but she obviously did not expect a reply as she went into the study and her sister ran to the kitchen.

“Nanny! Nanny!” she cried. “Selene is back! She has just arrived!”

Nanny looked at her as if she thought her ears were deceiving her. Then she answered,

“Well, if she’s come for the funeral she’s too late!” “That is what I told her. She is hungry and we will have to eat in the dining room.”

As she spoke, Pandia saw the change of expression in Nanny’s face.

Because there had been only the two of them after her father became confined to his bedroom, they had eaten together in the kitchen, but she was quite certain that Selene would dislike that and perhaps make a fuss.

“I will lay the table,” Pandia said quickly, “and if you will put everything on a tray I will fetch it.”

Nanny’s lips tightened, but she did not say anything and without waiting Pandia hurried into the dining room which was just beside the kitchen.

It was only a small room, but her mother had made it very attractive.

The curtains were not of a rich material, but before they faded they had been a very pretty shade of ruby red and matched the seats on the chairs.

It all gave an impression of rich colour and when her mother was alive there had always been a bowl of flowers in the centre of the table.

Pandia quickly found a clean white tablecloth and spread it over the table, then laid on it the knives, forks and spoons and the glasses.

A silver bowl which her mother had treasured was on the sideboard and she placed it in the centre.

Although there were no flowers at this time of the year, she thought it made the table look very much the same as when they had all been there for meals.

Pandia laid it for only two people, knowing that Selene would not expect to sit down with Nanny.

Peeping into the kitchen she saw that Nanny was dishing up the rabbit that was giving out a delicious fragrance and she hurried across the hall to the study.

“Luncheon will be ready in two minutes!” she said. “Would you like to wash, Selene, and take off your hat?”

“I suppose I might as well make myself comfortable,” Selene answered her.

She was sitting, Pandia noticed, in their father’s chair, holding out her hands to the fire.

Now she was discarding her hat and, looking at her without it on, Pandia thought she still looked exceedingly beautiful, but they no longer so closely resembled each other.

Then she realised that it was not Selene’s face that had changed but the way she arranged her hair.

Also her eyelashes seemed darker than they had been in the past and her lips were redder.

While she was looking at her sister, Selene was gazing at her.

“We are still alike,” she commented.

To Pandia’s delight she seemed pleased.

“I thought for a moment that you had changed,” Pandia said, “but it is only the way you are doing your hair and of course you look very beautiful.”

“I thought you would admire me,” Selene replied, “but in my position I am expected to be smart and of course expensively dressed.”

“Your position?” Pandia enquired, puzzled.

“I am married,” Selene answered. “Did you not know?”

“No, of course not! How should I?”

Selene laughed.

“I forgot that Papa was never interested in the newspapers and I suppose in this dead and alive hole you would not be aware if the world came to an end!”

“I should have wanted to know that you were married,” Pandia replied. “You might have written to tell me!”

Selene did not answer. She was busy patting her hair into place.