The Quality Street Wedding

by Penny Thorpe

  ‘Well, Mr Baum,’ Diana said, ‘you’ve got a choice to make, and you’ve not got much time to make it. You can go with him now, or you can hide somewhere and postpone the evil hour. They can’t arrest you if they can’t find you.’

  Albert shrugged his shoulders. ‘But where would I hide?’

  ‘Where would we hide?’ Mary corrected him.

  ‘Here.’ Reenie pulled a note pad and pencil from her pocket and scribbled down a message for her mother. ‘My family live on a farm out past Stump Cross, Peter can take you. Go there and wait.’

  Reenie tried to reassure them. ‘We’ll take care of Bess and you can still get to France. We’ll not let them take you, Mr Baum.’

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  When Sergeant Metcalf arrived at the old boarding house he could not have anticipated the train of events that his very presence would put in motion. He had asked for Reenie Calder initially, because he would have no evidence with which to make any arrest until he had first spoken to her. This political business was not a matter with which the Halifax Police Constabulary had ever felt any sympathy and none of it seemed like a criminal offence to Sergeant Metcalf or his Inspector, but their orders were their orders, and they were duty bound to investigate. He had tried her family home out at the farm and they had directed him here. He knew Reenie Calder and he trusted that she was an honest girl and he wouldn’t need to give chase, so he decided to make this a leisurely interview.

  The sitting room of her old boarding house was cosy with warmth from a glowing coal fire in the grate, but Reenie’s palms were cold and clammy with fear. She knew this policeman, and she knew that he was a fair man, but she also knew that Mary needed time to get well away and to get well hidden and she was going to have to keep him talking a while.

  ‘Reenie,’ it was a greeting which held rather more significance than it might have done from anyone else; Sergeant Metcalf had interviewed Reenie only a year or so ago when she had fooled him into thinking that she was someone else entirely. It had been an unfortunate start to their acquaintanceship and had almost led to her friends being arrested for a crime they had not committed. Reenie wouldn’t make that mistake again. She would say as little as she could get away with. She moved a little closer to the fire and said, ‘Sergeant Metcalf.’

  ‘Where’s Peter Mackenzie, Reenie?’

  Reenie’s eyes widened and her heart raced; how could he have known that she’d sent Peter to help Albert Baum and Mary escape to her parents’ house? Unless he’d been having them watched or overheard everything they had said as she wrote out the note for her mother. It seemed impossible, but it was the only explanation which occurred to Reenie in that decisive moment. Reenie decided to play for more time and hope that this officer didn’t have more constables waiting round the corner to swoop on Albert Baum before he could be led to safety.

  ‘Why do you want to know where he is?’

  ‘We’ve had a communication from another constabulary suggesting that he’s about to do something which we both know would be breaking the law. They think he may have already broken the law, so tell me where he is, Reenie and this doesn’t need to go any further, we can stop it now. You don’t want your young man putting himself in danger for foreigners.’

  This riled Reenie; she had thought Sergeant Metcalf was better than this, she had thought he’d hold human justice higher than bureaucracy. ‘I suppose you’ve got to do what you think is right and he’s got to do what he thinks is right, but it’s nothing to do with me.’

  ‘I heard there was a note.’ Sergeant Metcalf waited, gauging Reenie’s reaction. ‘I want to know about the note, Reenie; tell me everything you know about the note.’

  Reenie was holding herself perfectly still, terrified of giving something away; terrified that she might glance or turn in the direction of where Mary had gone and give him a clue as to where they were running with Albert Baum at the very moment that he needed time. Surely if he had seen the note she’d written to her mother about looking after Albert and Mary he didn’t need to ask all this? He knew where to find Albert Baum, so why was he wasting time with Reenie?

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said, with trembling voice.

  ‘Helping someone else to cross the channel for illegal purposes is just as much a criminal offence as crossing the channel for illegal purposes yourself, you know that, don’t you, Reenie?’

  There was something in his look that seemed like a message or a warning, but as long as they were talking at cross purposes Reenie was never going to understand what he was telling her, because this was not the interview she thought it was.

  ‘I don’t know anything about anyone trying to cross the Channel illegally. Mr Baum has been applying for his family to come here on all the correct permits. He’s done nothing wrong and his family have done nothing wrong. If he goes to France with Mary to get married it will all be above board because she will be of age.’ Reenie had learnt from her last conversation with Sergeant Metcalf that she should stick as close to the truth as she could, as often as she could, and give nothing away which wasn’t already public knowledge.

  ‘I’m not interested in your Mr Baum today, Reenie. I want to know if you saw Peter Mackenzie with a note from his cousins saying that they intended to travel to Spain to fight with the International Brigade against the Spanish government over there, and if they invited Peter Mackenzie to go with them.’

  Reenie sank backwards into a chair and sucked in a breath; this was not something she would ever in her wildest dreams have thought they needed to fear. They were afraid for Albert and his children; they were afraid for the health of Major Fergusson if the scarlet fever reached the cottage hospital; they were afraid that war was coming and they would soon be cowering below ground beneath aerial bombardments of poison gas; but Reenie had never thought they needed to worry about Peter’s fleeting plans to leave for Spain. His caring nature and simple sense of duty had made him consider making the journey, but Reenie had quickly talked him out of it with the help of Diana Moore. Surely the policeman would see that he wasn’t a risk any more.

  ‘He did get a note from his cousins, and he did think of going with them himself, but I talked him out of it. He would never dream of going now. He gave away all his travel things to his cousin. He’s got no pack or flask or anything. He couldn’t go and I wouldn’t help him to go. No one has done anything to help him.’

  ‘But he gave his pack and equipment to his cousin to take with him?’

  ‘Yes, he doesn’t have it any more because he’s not planning to leave.’ Reenie couldn’t understand why the policeman looked so disappointed with her. She hadn’t been around enough policemen to recognise the look they gave you when they wanted to avoid some unnecessary paperwork; when they wanted you to tell them a white lie that was convenient to both of you so that they could go away and say that they had checked up on everything they had been asked to check up on, and you could go free and forget it had ever happened.

  ‘So Peter Mackenzie materially aided at least one of his cousins to travel to Spain to fight the National forces, in direct breach of English law?’ Sergeant Metcalf took out his pocket notebook with exasperated reluctance. ‘Where is he now, Reenie?’

  Reenie swallowed a sob as it dawned on her that everything had become worse again because of her. ‘He’s in the factory somewhere.’ She tried to keep some semblance of composure. ‘I don’t know where. You’ll have to find him.’

  Reenie knew exactly where Peter was – he’d be at her mother’s house, or on his way there, but she could not bear to be honest with Sergeant Metcalf because she was terrified of making everything even worse. She never wanted to speak again. And just as she was telling herself that life could not become any more horrible, a telegram arrived for Diana. Her little sister Gracie had scarlet fever and the Hunters wanted Diana to come at once.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Diana’s feelings of guilt came in waves. She could never regret having Gracie
, but she could regret not trying harder to keep her. If she had married a violent man she could have kept her daughter, or if she had married a widower with a lot of young children of his own who needed a woman in the house to cook and clean and skivvy. If she had moved to another town and pretended to be a widow herself, she could have kept her daughter. If she had begged, if she had borrowed, if she had stolen – but no matter how many ‘ifs’ she thought of, she could never have provided Gracie with a life like the one she had now. A life of safety and security. But how safe was it? Only six months before she’d found that Gracie and Lara had been playing with rat poison they’d picked up by mistake and now the pair of them had been exposed to poisoned milk. Was this home really so safe for her daughter? Should she try to take her back? Should she confess who she really was?

  Dr Martin re-emerged from the sickroom. ‘She’s delirious, I’m afraid.’

  Diana choked back tears, while Mr and Mrs Hunter asked a tumble of worried questions.

  ‘But doctor, she was speaking to us only a few moments before you were summoned. She can’t have been taken badly so rapidly.’

  ‘She’s descended into gibberish, I’m afraid. Just unintelligible sounds. Ordinarily we would move her to the isolation hospital immediately, but their wards are full. You will need to telephone a nursing agency and hire a trained nurse to take over here until the fever breaks. I will give your housekeeper the telephone number and I will be here again myself to administer Pentonil.’

  Mr Hunter asked, ‘Can we go and sit with her now?’

  ‘I think not. The disease is contagious. I would allow her mother to sit with her on the condition she does not see any of her other children for the next fortnight because we must contain the spread of contagion. You must choose one of your own servants to nurse the child in the sickroom, but allow no one else.’

  This meant that Diana would not be allowed to see her daughter again. She had known when she allowed the courts to give her for adoption that this was a very real risk, and she had accepted it then, but the life she had made for herself as a satellite of the Hunter family had allowed her to raise her hopes that she need never be separated from her Gracie again. Now she faced the dilemma she had always feared: should she reveal her identity in order to sit by her daughter’s bedside? If this was her last chance, if her daughter was certain to die, then she had nothing to lose and everything to gain. But if she lived she’d be ruining her life all over again – the repercussions of her revelation would change everything. Diana had a decision to make and she felt as though it would kill her.

  Glancing briefly at the Hunters, Diana cleared her throat and asked the doctor, ‘Sir, do you think she will live? Is there a chance?’

  ‘She has an even chance.’

  At this Mrs Hunter burst into hysterical sobs and turned to bury her face in her husband’s shoulder. He, in turn, stared blankly ahead of him, shocked beyond belief that the little girl they had let into their lives only a year and a half ago and had grown to love deeply, was perhaps about to leave them in the most dreadful way.

  ‘I suggest you keep the house as quiet as possible.’ The doctor, Diana noticed, did not give orders to his wealthy patients, only polite but firm ‘suggestions’. ‘The child will cry out, but it is merely the ravings of the fever and should not be agitated further with chatter.’

  ‘If I promise to be very quiet,’ Diana pleaded breathlessly, ‘may I see Gracie one last time?’

  The doctor looked down his nose at Diana, his irritation ill-concealed. ‘Her mother only. And one servant.’

  Diana took a deep breath; this was not the first time she had had to confess to being Gracie’s mother, but she knew that if she admitted it now, it would be the last. The repercussions of her admission would be felt beyond the sickroom and everyone would know the secret she had kept for so long. But she needed to be by her daughter’s side, felt their separation like an agony that threatened to stop her own heart from beating. ‘I understand, doctor, but—’ Diana prepared herself to challenge this cold old man, but Mrs Hunter interrupted her, mounting an appeal on her behalf.

  ‘You must allow Diana to sit with her too, doctor. You don’t understand what she means to Gracie …’ The good woman choked her own sobs and was at a loss to continue.

  The doctor took a dim view of these proceedings and cast a disapproving eye over Diana. He had already judged from her style of dress and manner of speech that she was not of the same class as his paying clients. ‘I would like you to see me out,’ he addressed Diana with a little more firmness than he might have used with his wealthy patients.

  Diana followed the tight-lipped medical man to the front door, down the path through the rose garden, and beyond the gate. There the doctor turned on her abruptly, his lips curled almost into a snarl. ‘I have not been told what your connection is to the child, madam, but I suspect I know.’

  Diana said quietly, ‘She is my natural daughter and she was adopted by the Hunters a year ago. If you’re allowing her mother to sit with her, you’re allowing me.’

  ‘I am not allowing you; I am not allowing you to see her, I am not allowing you to acknowledge her, and I am not allowing you to make the scene which you were so obviously about to make. That child has a very slim chance of survival and the slightest disturbance could be a death sentence. I am not here to decide, like Solomon, which mother has the greater love for the infant; I am here to save her life. If you want your child to have the best chance of breaking the fever you will stay away. However, if your only care is for yourself and your own satisfaction, then I suspect nothing I say will have any influence and you will do your utmost to agitate young Miss Gracie Hunter.’

  Diana trembled with emotion and tears rolled silently down her cheeks, but she mastered herself enough to ask, ‘When will you know if she is likely to live?’

  ‘If the fever breaks. If her raving stops. When she is able to ask for people she knows.’

  Diana ground her teeth. There was nothing she could do. Gracie had been legally adopted through the courts and she had no rights to assert. The right of a mother had been legally transferred to Mrs Hunter and she herself had allowed it.

  ‘I would never do anything which I thought might harm my daughter.’ But Diana knew that if the doctor had not marched her outside when he did she would have lost all control of herself, flung open the doors to Gracie’s room and gathered her up in her arms. Now she knew that she had to stay away. Not only was this Gracie’s only chance, but this was her only chance to see Gracie again if she lived. This whole precarious situation relied on the Hunter family believing that she was a half-sister, with a half-sister’s love, unthreatening and never troublesome.

  A cry rang out from inside the house and Diana and the doctor whirled round to see what was the matter. The front door was flung open with a bang and there was Edward Hunter, eyes wide with excitement. ‘Didi!’ he shouted down through the quiet rose garden. ‘Didi! She’s calling for Didi! She wants Diana! She’s not delirious! She was calling for Diana!’

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  ‘I think Peter’s going to be sent to prison.’ Reenie crumpled down into a seat at the family dining table which had become the centre of so much family drama and delight over the years.

  ‘Whatever for?’ Mrs Calder acted as though this were not only ridiculous, but also highly offensive. Any charge against Peter Mackenzie must be false, there was no doubt in her mind of that. Reenie might get herself into trouble by accident, but Peter was safe as houses.

  ‘He tried to go to Spain. Well, he was going to go to Spain, but then he just helped his cousins by sending them the things he’d bought to take with him. They were going anyway and he didn’t think he’d be doing any harm!’

  ‘What would he want to go to Spain for?’ Mr Calder was completely nonplussed. ‘They’re at war over there, it’s no time to be visiting Spain.’

  ‘He was off to fight the fascists. He was going to join the war.’ Kathleen said it w
ith a certainty and a resignation that suggested she’d seen this all before, despite the fact that she was thirteen and had never travelled further than Wakefield. ‘Well, if he gave them anything to help them on their way he’s definitely for it.’

  ‘I don’t understand!’ Mrs Calder was as shocked and distressed as if Peter were her own blood relation. ‘I thought the fascists were the ones in the wrong. I thought the lads going off to fight them were the heroes.’

  ‘You don’t read the papers, Mother,’ Kathleen had taken the opportunity to peruse publications of every political hue when she was minding the shop on Saturdays. ‘There’ll probably be war, and it will probably be against the fascists of one or other of the continental countries run by them; it could be Spain, it could be Germany, and I wouldn’t rule out Italy or Rumania – but it isn’t war yet. Just now the law says anyone who goes over to fight them has gone rogue and gets hard labour in an English prison if they’re caught trying to go, so Peter’s for it.’ Kathleen did not change her matter-of-fact tone when she saw how her family were taking this news. She turned to her elder sister. ‘Reenie, how bad is it? What proof have they got he helped anyone go to Spain?’

  ‘That’s the worst part of it, they only know what he was planning because I told them myself! I thought they were fussing about us planning to get Mr Baum’s family over from Germany and I was just keen to explain they’d got the wrong end of the stick, so I told them Peter had been planning to go and join up, but then he changed his mind, and I tried to prove he’d changed his mind by telling them he’d given away his travel things and then the next thing I know that was what swung it – they’d got him on a charge of aiding and abetting on my say so!’

  ‘Who’s they?’ The cogs in Kathleen’s mind were turning. ‘You haven’t been and said this in a magistrates’ court already?’