Greyfriars House

by Emma Fraser

  He gave me a steely look. ‘Never met a woman yet who could resist poking her nose in other people’s business.’

  He dug his pipe out of his jacket pocket and lit a match to it. The pleasant tang of tobacco smoke tickled my nostrils, before it was whipped away by the wind.

  ‘I want to talk to you about my aunts.’

  His brow furrowed. ‘Are they all right?’

  ‘No, they are not all right! But why do you care? You just want to sit here day after day, pining for something or someone that you don’t have the guts to do anything about!’ I was almost shouting now but I couldn’t help myself.

  Findlay half-turned towards me, his eyes dark with fury. ‘You don’t know the first thing about me. What I feel. What I think.’

  ‘I think you still love Edith. That’s why you came back here, isn’t it? It’s why you are here every day, isn’t it? Your lost love – yet you do nothing about it. That’s not true love.’

  ‘Love!’ he roared back at me. ‘What do you know about love?’ He swept an arm out, pointing towards Jamie’s cottage. ‘You prance about with young Jamie as if you know one single thing about love, yet I can see the fear in your eyes. Don’t you dare tell me that I don’t know about loving someone so much that it hurts every second of every day not to be near them, to touch them, to hear their voice.’

  All at once the anger drained out of me. He was right. Who was I to judge anyone? Lately I had done very little to be proud of.

  ‘I thought I loved Edith. I wanted to love her,’ he said, so softly I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly. My heart sank.

  ‘What do you mean – thought you loved Edith? Have you stopped?’

  He dipped his head. ‘Everyone thought it was Georgina who made a play for me. They were wrong. It was the opposite way around. The moment I set eyes on Georgina, Edith might as well not have existed.’

  He was in love with Georgina! So Mum’s instincts had been right all along.

  ‘Mum said you and Georgina came over on the boat together. That last summer when you were all together.’ The penny was finally beginning to drop. ‘You were already in love with Georgina, weren’t you?’

  He flicked me another, sharp-eyed look. ‘I was supposed to meet Edith in Edinburgh but there was a delay – a meeting I had to go to about which regiment I was going to sign up with. When I came to the house Edith had left already and there was only Georgina.’

  I waited for him to continue.

  ‘I wanted her the moment I saw her.’ He laughed harshly. ‘I tried to tell myself that what I felt was no more than lust. She was the complete opposite to Edith; self-centred, vain, with the morals of a cat. Except when it came to her sister.’ He stopped and looked off into the distance, a small, sad smile playing on his lips. ‘She loved Edith. She would have done anything to make her sister happy.’

  ‘But Georgina seduced you, or at least tried to, that night down at the shore. My mother saw everything. You must remember. That’s what caused all the upset.’

  He breathed out – a long deep sigh. ‘Georgina never wanted to hurt Edith. So she let everyone believe that it was she who was trying to seduce me and that I rejected her. Her reputation – what had happened in Paris – what people thought had happened. Everyone was quick to believe the worst of Georgina. She thought Edith would accept that she’d been drunk and forgive her eventually.

  ‘But it didn’t work out that way, did it? Edith still broke off the engagement and never truly forgave Georgina anyway.’

  He narrowed his eyes, unable to hide his surprise. ‘Is that what she told you?’

  ‘It’s not true?’

  He shook his head. ‘Edith did come to me wanting to make things up but I said no. I told her I couldn’t marry her because I was in love with Georgina. She was the only woman I could see myself spending my life with.’

  It wasn’t what Edith had told Georgina when they were in the camps. My memory was almost perfect when it came to recalling conversations verbatim. She’d said that Findlay had come to see her in Peebles, but to try and make amends, to persuade Edith to go back to him.

  In which case, Edith had lied. And she’d known for years that Findlay had been in love with Georgina. Thoughts were tumbling around in my head. Georgina had always implied that what Mum had seen was no more than a clumsy attempt to kiss Findlay after she’d had too much to drink. I’d always suspected she was holding out on me.

  ‘Did Georgina know how you felt about her?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Why hadn’t Georgina shared this with me? When she’d shared so much.

  ‘When the war was over, why didn’t you go to Georgina then?’

  ‘I tried. I rowed over one night. The war changed how people saw things. Old notions of wrong and right had gone out the window. Those of us lucky enough to have survived knew we had to grasp what happiness we could. If not for our own sakes, then for those who had died and were never given the chance. During the war it was the thought of Georgina that kept me sane. As soon as it was over all I wanted was to be with her again.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘She said she couldn’t leave Edith. She even tried to pretend she didn’t love me any more, but I knew she was lying. When I pressed her she said that Edith wasn’t well and she had to take care of her. I told her I’d wait. For as long as it took.’

  He looked across the sea to where the turret of Greyfriars was disappearing behind thick cloud. ‘I’ve waited almost forty years for her to come to me. And I’ll wait as long again if I have to.’

  On the way back to the village, I turned what Findlay had said over in my mind. He said he still loved Georgina, but was that even possible? By his own admission it was years since he’d spoken to her and he had no idea what had happened to her during the war. No notion she had a child. Was that the true reason she’d turned him away?

  How would he feel about her now if he knew she’d been raped? I’d heard of men turning away from the women they loved when they learned what had happened. They knew it was wrong, yet some deep, primeval part of them could not accept that another man had been intimate with their wife or girlfriend – even though they knew she’d done nothing to provoke the attack and had been traumatised by it. Some of these women had been persuaded to tell their partners only to have them turn away in disgust. In many ways they had been hurt twice over. As always, Lucy leapt to my mind. Her father hadn’t turned away from her, he’d done the opposite and blamed himself for not protecting her, and what I’d done in court was paramount to raping her all over again. Like Georgina I needed a way to make restitution, both to Lucy and Annette. If by so doing I ruined my chances of ever working as a lawyer again, it was a chance I was prepared to take.

  I stopped at the kiosk, spoke to Directory of Enquiries and got the number I was looking for. My hands were shaking as I called Annette’s number. There was no going back now, and I made the call.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  The clouds had completely obscured the sun and rain was falling steadily as I rowed back to Greyfriars, gusts of wind whipping the sea into waves and rocking the little boat. When I got to Kerista, I thought about pulling the boat ashore but in the end decided against it. It was one thing pushing the boat from the land into the sea, hauling it out required more strength than I had. I settled for tying it securely to the post at the end of the pier.

  I ran up to my room and changed into dry clothes before looking for my aunts. I found Georgina in the library with Mary. Georgina was reading a book and Mary was bent over the needlework in her lap, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated.

  Mary looked up at me and beamed. ‘Hello, Charlotte,’ she said carefully. ‘Did you have a nice day?’ Tiger, ever the dilettante when it came to her affections, was at Mary’s feet, looking up at her with adoration.

  ‘I did, Mary. Thank you. What about you?’

  ‘I’ve been doing my needlework.’ She held it out to me with a shy smile
.

  I recalled the embroidery I had seen lying on the table, the feeling the room had recently been vacated, and realised that Mary must have been there only moments before and been ushered away upstairs before I’d come in. No wonder Edith had wanted me to be more precise about my comings and goings.

  I asked Georgina if we might talk in the sitting room. She rose to her feet and telling Mary she’d be back soon, followed me out.

  ‘It was you Findlay loved all along,’ I said as soon as we were seated.

  She paled. ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘He told me.’

  ‘You’ve been speaking to him?’ She leaned forward, clasping her hands between her knees. ‘How? When?’

  I explained how I had met him, his association with Jamie, his reluctant admission that it was Georgina he loved. That he’d told Edith. While I talked she just sat there growing paler, tears trembling like pearls on her lower lashes.

  She reached across and clutched my wrist. ‘You must never repeat any of this to Edith.’

  ‘But she lied to you!’

  ‘I can’t blame her. She loved him so much.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ I said. ‘If you and Findlay loved each other, why didn’t you do something about it? I mean after the war. He would have understood about the baby and Edith would have had to come around eventually.’

  ‘I didn’t want his understanding!’ Georgina cried. ‘Perhaps if things had turned out differently. If Edith hadn’t risked her life for me. If I hadn’t…’ She broke off and gave a little shake of her head. ‘What does it matter now? It’s too late, too much has happened. You’ll understand better when I finish my story. You can’t judge Edith without knowing it all! My betrayal was so much worse than she knew.’

  She was becoming increasingly distressed.

  ‘I have no right to judge either you or Edith. What makes you think I would?’

  Georgina took a deep breath, sat straighter and placed her hands in her lap. ‘Very well. You want the truth. I’ll give it to you.

  ‘After the row with Edith, everyone left. I stayed behind at Greyfriars to oversee its closing. In truth, your grandmother was too fed up with me to have me in London and Edith was in the house in Edinburgh so I couldn’t go there and there was still two weeks before my ship was due to sail. After the house was closed up, I dismissed the servants and settled down to indulge my misery and lick my wounds. Greyfriars was the only place I had peace to do that.’

  Georgina’s deep blue eyes glistened in the gathering dusk.

  ‘A few days before I was due to leave for London and then Singapore he came. I should have known he would. Deep down I knew he would.’

  ‘We just stood there looking at each other. My heart was pounding so hard I thought I might stop breathing at any moment. Once more I had the opportunity to do the right thing. To close the door. Send him back to Edith. But the way he was looking at me… I could no more have done that than I could have stopped breathing.’

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Georgina

  Greyfriars, 1939

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she whispered.

  ‘I told myself it was to see Edith; to try and make things right.’

  ‘She’s not here.’ Then his words sank in. ‘Told yourself?’

  ‘She’s everything a man could want, you know.’ He spat the words as if they were bullets. ‘Kind, gentle, loyal.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘And you are the most selfish woman I have ever come across.’ He took a step towards her. ‘But God help me, I want you more than any woman I have ever met.’

  Suddenly, she wasn’t quite sure how, she was in his arms.

  She should have pushed him away then. She had one last chance to do the right thing. If she’d told him to go he might make it up with Edith and marry her. But she didn’t do any of that.

  She kissed him back.

  When he released her they were both breathing hard.

  ‘You should go,’ she said, pushing him away, her lips still warm from his mouth, her body tingling from his touch. ‘Now.’

  ‘Do you really want me to?’

  ‘You know I don’t.’ She removed a cigarette from the box on the table. Her hands were shaking so much he had to light it for her.

  ‘I would have married her,’ he said, still looking at Georgina as if he hated her. ‘We might have been happy.’

  ‘You could still marry her. If you go to her and beg she might forgive you. She can be stubborn, but she loves you very much.’

  ‘It’s too late for that now.’

  ‘So you’ve come here. Seeking what? Compensation? If you can’t have the one sister then you’ll have the other?’

  He took a step towards her, until he was so close she could feel the heat radiating from him. ‘Don’t pretend. It doesn’t suit you. You know how I feel about you, just as I know how you feel about me.’

  ‘And how is that?’ Her voice was annoyingly unsteady.

  ‘You and I were meant to be together. We deserve each other.’

  She raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Has anyone ever told you your love-making leaves something to be desired?’

  ‘Don’t pretend you don’t know we’re two of a kind. No matter how much we might wish it was different.’

  ‘And what do you propose we do about it?’

  He wrapped his hand in her hair and tugged gently, forcing her to look into his eyes. ‘You know.’

  Later, lying next to him in the big feather bed, she waited for the guilt to come, but all she felt was a deep sense of happiness. This is where she was meant to be. She turned on her side and, propping herself on her elbow, looked down at him. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady and rhythmic. Becoming aware of her eyes on him he opened his and smiled.

  ‘Are we bad people?’ she whispered.

  ‘Very bad.’ He rolled over on his side to face her and traced the outline of her jaw with the tip of his finger. ‘How can this be wrong? I love you. I will always love you. Nothing will ever change that.’ He said it with such conviction she had no choice but to believe him.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ she asked.

  ‘We are going to get married. That’s what people in love do, isn’t it?’

  ‘Get married? We can’t. What about Edith?’

  ‘What about us?’

  ‘She’ll never forgive me. Never.’

  ‘She will. She’s a good woman. And she cares about you.’

  ‘You don’t understand. She’s my sister! She’d see it as the worst sort of betrayal. And it is. Much worse than what I did before – and she’s furious enough with me for that.’

  He pulled her close so that her head lay on his chest. ‘I won’t give you up,’ he said, his voice vibrating through her.

  She’d have to make him. But what if he were killed? This might be the last time she’d see him. How could she let him go? She only wanted a little time with him. Then she might be content to live the rest of her life without him.

  ‘We’ll have these few days,’ she said. ‘I’m going to Singapore as I planned. You’ll be with your regiment. The war won’t last long. We’ll decide what to do then. Perhaps Edith will have met someone else.’

  But she thought it unlikely. Edith was the type of person, always had been, who once she gave her heart and her loyalty would never be swayed from her path. And even if she did fall in love with someone else, she would never forgive Georgina for continuing her betrayal. She knew that in the same way she knew the sun would rise every morning. In the same way she knew she would never love anyone else.

  The next days were a combination of agony and blissful, giddy happiness. They slept late, made love and slept some more. At some point Georgina would rise and make them eggs and coffee and bring it into the bedroom, climbing back in alongside Findlay. He ate in the same way he made love, with total concentration. Sometimes, if it rained, they stayed in bed, at others they would dress and sit in the library an
d she would read until Findlay would grow restless and come over to nibble her neck and tempt her back to bed.

  He wasn’t a man used to being cooped up, but she made him promise not to leave the island, not even to take the small yacht out for a sail. No one could be allowed to know he was here. If he was seen, it would cause no end of gossip in the village – some of which might get back to Edith. However, if the weather was fine, they would picnic outside hidden from prying eyes by the rhododendrons.

  She tried not to think of Edith and how she was betraying her even more than she had done already, telling herself that as long as her sister didn’t know she couldn’t be hurt further.