JULIA
CHAPTER 1
Each year, to mark her birthday, Julia Mariot would walk along the hall of Radley Grange and look at the line of portraits depicting the Grey family. She would take a seat opposite and examine that of her elder sister, Amelia, who had been married to Charles Grey, the present owner of the estate. Amelia had sat for the portrait when she was twenty and had been a lovely girl with fair curls and expressive eyes. Julia would gaze at the painting for several minutes, thinking that apart from the colour of her hair, she had looked very like her sister; and then move on to the next stage of her ritual, which involved her diaries.
Julia’s diaries were kept in a locked cabinet in her bedroom. They went back nineteen years and each one contained several bookmarks. She would start with the oldest and read once again the pages on Amelia’s marriage to Charles Grey, although he was twenty years older; her removal to Radley Grange in Bedfordshire; her happiness at the birth of her daughter, Vanessa; and then, after a decade of satisfying life, the boating accident in which she had nearly died.
Julia would rest at this point and examine the childish handwriting of the earlier diaries and trace its change into the more civilised style of the accident diary. She would consider how unfair life was; for her sister had decided not to go on the holiday excursion, but had taken the place of a friend with a sick child and so was sitting to the side of the yacht when the accident occurred. She would set her lips and turn to the more recent volumes containing the aftermath of the event; and read again the entries describing Amelia’s headaches and partial paralysis; and Mr Grey’s anxious letters describing the daybed in the drawing room and sending for the doctor.
Then Julia would steel herself and turn to the next diary, which held the accounts of her mother’s illness and early death. Two tragedies in as many years was overwhelming and she would hold back tears for both mother and sister and remember the scene when at eighteen, she had been required to leave her home so that a distant cousin might inherit and journey to Gransfield with her seven thousand pounds to live under her delicate sister’s care.
The diaries for this period were bound in black leather and Julia did not always read them because they needed no recalling. She had been a conscientious girl and quickly appreciated that Amelia was incapable of effort. She did not hesitate to assist where she could and was soon supervising Vanessa’s play and education.
The following years were difficult at the Grange. Julia had a loyal nature and willingly assumed further responsibilities. When she reached twenty-one, she took on the official duty of raising her niece and running the house. Amelia was far too ill to lead a normal life and Mr Grey organised everything to suit her medical condition. But she did not improve and would lie on the chaise longue, listening to Julia read, her eyes vague with laudanum.
Sadly Amelia lingered on for eight years. Julia was very affected by her suffering and changed from a lively girl to a reserved young woman of twenty-six. She stayed with her sister to the very end and agreed to her demands that she would always put Mr Grey first.
Soon after Amelia’s death, Mr Grey’s tendency to depression turned into a serious disorder. He believed noise was harmful and would not tolerate it. The servants were taught to go about their duties silently and there was no sound of music because he had removed every instrument. In a few months, his condition deepened to such an extent he became disorientated when faced with anything new. He particularly disliked visitors and people chose not to call rather than be turned away. He did not see this was unusual and ruled the Grange with an unhealthy determination that affected everyone.
The situation was common knowledge in Gransfield. Mr Grey’s friends were concerned about him, but they knew contact distressed him and did not wish to make him worse. Sometimes the affliction was extreme and he refused to eat. Julia would try to coax him into it and he would react angrily. He was definitely ill and harming everyone around him.
There was only one attempt to treat the condition. When Amelia was dying, the eminent physician, Sir John Gilbey, was brought in to attend her through the last weeks of her life. He noticed Mr Grey was hardly eating and came across him wandering about the house at night. He examined him and assured him that a sleeping draught would restore his appetite. Amelia died several days later and Sir John treated Mr Grey for nervous debility. He suggested a holiday as a first measure. He was not satisfied this would cure the complaint, but he was aware that an unsympathetic diagnosis might offend the other members of the Grey family. So he issued the opinion that Mr Grey’s substantial income would sustain the Grange until the balance of his nature corrected itself. ‘It was not unknown for an older gentleman who had lost a young wife to respond in this way,’ he said. ‘The length of the illness and shock of her death had exacerbated an ongoing nervous condition, but it would pass, given time and attention.’ Then he promised to assess Mr Grey in three months and travelled back to his practice in London. In the interim, Mr Grey improved slightly and decided not to see him. He met Sir John by the front gates and said his visit was unnecessary. Sir John disagreed and Mr Grey threatened him with legal action.
This proved unwise because Vanessa had inherited her father’s nature and soon showed signs of anxiety. She felt it was wrong to be happy and filled her days with quiet occupations. She was fond of needlework and started to embroider a series of chair backs that featured complicated coats of arms. She spent countless hours in the gross and petit point needed to portray them. She was very reserved for eighteen and could be highly emotional.
Julia did not have much leisure time, but she spent it in a similar way to her niece. She embroidered and read and her days were tedious. Fortunately, she had the respect of the servants and to reinforce it, hid her prettiness with plain clothes and a severe hairstyle, which she believed was the most effective way to manage her situation. As each birthday passed, she felt less resentment that she must act as mistress of a house that would never be hers. She had given up hope of her own life and had stopped writing in her diary. She was now twenty-seven and used nearly all her time doing her duty.
Before Mr Grey succumbed to his nervous disorder, he had drawn up a routine for Julia and Vanessa. He expected their appearance to be simple and their occupations decorous. They might walk outside in the grounds, although they were not to play games on the lawns. They were not allowed to ride because of the danger of falling and there was no piano, or harp to provide a more sedate occupation. Vanessa did not play, but Julia had been a keen pianist and missed the pleasure it gave her. She also had a pleasant singing voice, but Mr Grey had heard her and forbidden her to use it. He had even sent details to the kitchens of what they might eat. He only liked plain meals and they ate them in his absence, when he did not come down.
Every six months, Mr Grey would make an appointment to hear Vanessa reading from a set of essays so that he might check her standard of education. Apart from this, he refused to have modern books in the library and banned newspapers. Julia had tried to reintroduce them and he had punished her by refusing to eat. For weeks after the incident, he had come down in an irrational fear that she was reading forbidden material.
This high level of control made it appear the two young ladies had no money of their own, but in fact, Vanessa was due to inherit the ten thousand pounds her mother had left. Julia had her seven and Mr Grey gave her an allowance of three hundred a year. He had arranged this before he became ill and had not seen the need to allocate Vanessa any spending money. Julia used half her allowance on essentials and gave Vanessa the remainder, which she spent for her on clothes and items for her embroidery.
Six days out of seven, aunt and niece could count on remaining at the Grange, but as a great concession, Mr Grey did allow them to visit a middle aged couple called Mr and Mrs Bowen Cooper. They lived half a mile away and Julia and Vanessa had tea with them once a week. Mr Bowen Cooper was Mr Grey’s oldest friend and his house was considered safe ground.
Julia was also permitted to take Vanessa to church twice a year provided they did not speak to anyone. When Mr Grey felt ill, they had to stay at home. Vanessa did not mind; she was naturally shy and this trait was augmented by an irregularity in appearance. She had a birthmark on her right ear. It was about the size of a guinea and could have been covered by curls, if she had not deliberately tied her hair back.
Vanessa was worried by the mark and Julia had tried to speak to Mr Grey about it, but he lived a separate life from the rest of the family. He inhabited the upper floor of a wing of the house, which had its own set of servants. He did not care about Vanessa and always returned notes referring to her, with the message, ‘Do not trouble me.’
Julia often berated herself for failing to correct this lack of communication. She could see her promise to her sister had encouraged Mr Grey’s condition and kept the Grange in a state of permanent mourning. Some people, she understood from the Bowen Coopers, were convinced that she and Vanessa were going to pass the rest of their lives in isolation and turn into unhappy spinsters, which, she had to admit, was a particular risk with Vanessa. She seemed to have been moulded by the feeling of control. She did not have enough confidence to curl her hair, or ask to be chaperoned somewhere more exciting than the Bowen Coopers’ house.
Julia was sensible and kind, but she had been repressed by nine years of responsibility and putting her family first. She did not believe she had enough reason to defy Mr Grey and make him ill. As she had once said to Mrs Bowen Cooper, ‘Vanessa and I are trapped in an odd pattern of behaviour, which is no one’s fault. We need a significant outside event to alter it, and I am sure, Ma’am, it is never going to happen.’
The latest novel, Julia, has at its heart the problem of nervous illness and its affect on those around the sufferer. This may seem an unusual theme for a romantic novel, but when those most seriously affected are two young ladies, it becomes clearer. Julia Mariot and Vanessa Grey are trapped in a narrow, unsatisfying life with Mr Grey, who has developed a nervous condition. I suppose now we would call it an anxiety condition with associated fear of open spaces. In Emma, by Jane Austen, Emma’s sister has a mild cardiac condition, which she says she gives her the flutters and Mrs Bennett in Pride and Prejudice has a banging in her side when she is very wrought up. So, in Julia, we have nervous Mr Grey, whose condition has been exacerbated by years of watching his young wife dying very slowly. He deteriorates into a recluse, attended by a male nurse/secretary called Morrison.
Mr Grey’s affliction, however, is not limited to his own feelings and welfare. He rules his household ruthlessly, laying down conditions for both family and servants; and one of the main concerns of the book is wondering whether Julia and Vanessa are going to turn into the faded, querulous spinsters everyone thinks is inevitable.
As Julia says at the end of the first chapter, it will take a significant event to alter things and that event appears in the form of good-looking, twenty-eight year old, impoverished relative, Jeremy Carfax. But you will have to read the book to see what sort of man he is; and what sort of man, Will Roystan is, when he comes to Wavenhurst, the next estate, to inherit from a rich cousin. Wavenhurst is interesting. I got the idea for its look, when visiting Claydon House in Buckinghamshire, UK. If you haven’t been there and can’t go, then look it up on the net and when you read the scenes set there, it will give a pleasing amount of background to your visualisations.
Another character is Phillip Walker, a witty, woman-hating, no, not really, merely, woman-avoiding, barrister. This has also been interesting because I have been attending an Appeal recently, which has involved the cut and thrust of barristers interrogating witnesses. Phillip has cartoons in his house and in his Chambers; and the cartooning and lampooning of the early nineteenth century was pretty strong. I think he would have liked blogging, and would not have been too shocked by the ferociousness of some of the comments. It intrigues me when my comments are moderated. I would not be offensive, when skill with words is so much more effective. So, the book will be out soon, just looking for a more usual type of publisher, and have recently submitted it to a mainstream publishe
