Page 48 of The Missing Sister

‘So... you can be white and I shall be black. Mirror your pieces to mine as I place them on the squares.’

Finally, the board was set up and after she had refilled Philip’s glass, he taught her all the names of the different pieces, and the moves they could make across the board.

‘Right, the only way to learn is to get stuck in and jolly well play,’ he said. ‘Are you game?’

Nuala said she was, whatever ‘game’ meant. Concentrating hard, she wasn’t sure how much time passed as they moved their pieces across the board and she started to understand the rules.

There was a tap on the door. ‘Damn!’ Philip muttered. ‘Come!’

Mrs Houghton stood in the doorway. ‘I do apologise, but we were just wondering if you require tea? Normally the nurse would ring for it at four, and it is almost four and thirty.’

‘That is because the last nurse was an idiot with stuffing for a brain. Whereas Nuala here has already grasped the rudimentary elements of chess. We will take tea and then continue the game afterwards.’

‘Maureen will bring it up for you. It’s smoked salmon and cucumber sandwiches.’

‘Very good, Mrs Houghton.’ The door closed and Philip glanced at Nuala. ‘As we were so rudely interrupted, would you mind pushing me to the bathroom?’

Philip guided her through a door and into a bedroom with an enormous bed that had four posts, and what looked like a silk roof attached to them.

‘To your right,’ he ordered as he indicated another door. ‘Push me in and I’ll be fine from there.’

Nuala looked around in wonder at a big tub with a water pipe going into it, and a low round bowl that had a chain hanging above it from the ceiling.

‘Are you sure you don’t need some help?’

‘I’ll be grand, as you Irish say. Close the door behind you and I’ll call when I’m ready.’

Standing in the beautiful bedroom, just for a moment Nuala imagined lying flat on the huge bed, looking up at its silk roof and staying here safe and sound forever. Away from the farmhouse that was under daily threat of raids, the lumpy straw pallet that formed her bed at night, and the hard work morning till dusk that was necessary just to put food in their mouths. She imagined having people to wait on her, and a bowl next door to her bedroom where she could discreetly relieve herself. And most of all, not living in fear every hour of every day...

But would I want to be him?

‘Not in a million years,’ she muttered.

‘I’m ready,’ came a call from the other room. Nuala shook herself and went to attend to him.

‘All done,’ he said as he smiled up at her. ‘Would you kindly pull that chain above?’

She did so and water immediately rushed into the bowl below.

Trying not to stare at it, in case Philip were to take her for the peasant she was, she pushed him back into the sitting room, where Maureen had set up a three-tiered silver stand, brimming with sandwiches and cakes, as well as two beautiful china cups in front of the damask sofa.

‘Afternoon tea is served,’ said Maureen. As she gave a little bob, Nuala was sure the woman glanced in her direction and gave her a stare that was the opposite of warm.

‘I hope you like fish,’ Philip said as he reached for one of the sandwiches, made of a white-coloured bread with their crusts cut off.

‘To be truthful, I’ve never tasted fish.’

‘That doesn’t surprise me in the least,’ Philip commented. ‘I’ve never understood why you Irish are so averse to the stuff. It is plentiful in the waters that surround us here, yet you stick to the flesh of animals.’

‘’Tis the way I’ve been brought up.’

‘Well, after you have poured – tea first, milk last, by the way – I insist you try a sandwich. As you can see, there’s enough for a party of ten.’

‘I will so, thank you.’

Nuala poured the tea and the milk. Both teapot and milk jug were so heavy that she guessed they were made of solid silver.

‘Please, pour some for yourself, Nuala. You must be parched.’