The look on his face had haunted her ever since. She had been upset when she learned he was coming here. She did not want to see him. She did not want the past brought back. She was married to Solly, who was a good husband, and she could not bear the thought of hurting him. And there was Bertie, her reason for living.
Their child was named Hubert, but they called him Bertie, which was also the name of the Prince of Wales. Bertie Greenbourne would be five years old on May 1st, but that was a secret: his birthday was celebrated in September, to hide the fact that he had been born only six months after the wedding. Solly's family knew the truth, but no one else did: Bertie had been born in Switzerland, during the world tour that had been their honeymoon. Since then Maisie had been happy.
Solly's parents had not welcomed Maisie. They were stiff-necked snobbish German Jews who had been living in England for generations, and they looked down on Yiddish-speaking Russian Jews just off the boat. The fact that she was carrying another man's child confirmed their prejudice and gave them an excuse for rejecting her. However, Solly's sister Kate, who was about Maisie's age and had a seven-year-old daughter, was nice to Maisie when her parents were not around.
Solly loved her, and he loved Bertie too, although he did not know whose child he was; and that was enough for Maisie--until Hugh came back.
She got up early, as always, and went along to the nursery wing of the great house. Bertie was having breakfast in the nursery dining room with Kingo's children Anne and Alfred, supervised by three nursery maids. She kissed his sticky face and said: "What are you having?"
"Porridge with honey." He spoke with the drawling accent of the upper classes, the accent Maisie had been at pains to learn, and from which she still occasionally slipped.
"Is it nice?"
"The honey's nice."
"I think I'll have some," said Maisie, sitting down. It would be more digestible than the kippers and deviled kidneys the adults had for breakfast.
Bertie did not take after Hugh. As a baby he had resembled Solly, for all babies looked like Solly; and now he was like Maisie's father, with dark hair and brown eyes. Maisie could see something of Hugh in him now and again, especially when he gave a mischievous grin; but there was no obvious resemblance, fortunately.
A nursery maid brought Maisie a dish of porridge with honey and she tasted it.
"Do you like it, Mama?" said Bertie.
