Charles broke away from his hold and took a step back, straightening his shirt and tie. “Don’t you threaten me! Get out! Get out of my house!”
Just then, James and Harold appeared at the threshold. Harold gave a start when he saw his master bleeding. “Sir!” he said breathlessly. He scanned the room and fixed his eyes on Paul. He was bigger than him, but he balled his hands into fists all the same. Harold wouldn’t hesitate to defend the viscount if he had to.
Guessing his thoughts, Charles put up a hand.
Harold visibly relaxed. Next to him, James was peering at Laura, and only Laura, hoping her husband hadn’t hit her again.
Laura intervened then, her voice shaky. “Paul, please go.”
“Only if he promises me he’ll be civil, Laura.”
Charles nodded once, then straightened his posture and dabbed at the blood, this time with his handkerchief. “It is all right. I will go; you don’t have to. Enjoy your little party,” he said, sarcasm thick in his voice. He brushed Harold’s shoulder as he walked past him at the door, then turned around to cast a fiery glance at Paul.
“I can appreciate that this ugly little incident was initiated by me, so I will let this one go.” He put up a finger and shook it sharply. “But if you ever lay your hands on me again, you will be very sorry.”
Paul cocked his head. “Just keep in mind what I said . . . my lord,” he said sarcastically.
Charles threw Harold a meaningful look, causing him to nod respectfully. Then, without another word even to him, he headed upstairs to clean himself up before going out again.
***
Back in the dining room, the party continued but the spirits had run low. Jen served the main course with shaky hands, but everyone’s appetite was ruined. Only Freddie seemed to enjoy his meal. Laura’s guests tried to eat for her sake, washing every bite down with red wine. Conversation was sparse, meaningless.
All that Laura could do is arrange her features into an expression of mild frustration, making sure to throw reassuring glances at Paul every time he eyed her with concern across the table.
The cake tasted as fantastic as it had looked. Enjoying a cup of tea, the party of friends relaxed in the drawing room afterwards. Gradually, it appeared easier to approach the dreaded subject again.
“Laura, I am so sorry about before,” said Paul, “but I had to protect you. When I heard you shouting, I—”
Laura put up a hand. “It is all right, Paul. Thank you, I know. I am thankful for that. Lord knows what he is capable of these days.”
“Oh, Laura, why don’t you leave him?” asked Meg in a hushed tone. “What are you waiting for? Divorce him! Start anew with your child without him—”
“Divorce him? No . . . He . . .” Laura’s voice trailed off.
“Why not? You and Freddie can stay with me,” said Maggie.
“Oh, Maggie . . .” Laura shook her head.
“Think about it, please? With Ian gone to war, I live on my own now. You and Freddie would be safe in the house with me. It would be like the old days.”
Paul and Meg thought it was a great idea too, so they urged Laura to take the offer.
“Oh, but don’t you see? He made it clear he’ll never let me leave him—”
“Laura, this man is in no position to make demands!” Maggie said with a finality that caught Laura by surprise. She turned around to face her, stunned. Maggie cleared her throat. “There’s something you should know.”
Laura searched her friends’ faces one by one. She noticed how they eyed each other nervously. Whatever this was, it was a secret they all shared. “What is it?” she asked, her voice no more than a whisper. She wasn’t even sure she could take any more upset.
“It’s something Ian and I have known for a while . . . I guess you are the last to hear.”
“Just tell me, Maggie,” mumbled Laura.
Maggie gave a sigh. “When we were still engaged, Ian and I had gone to this seedy bar, well, it’s a dive, actually. I’m ashamed to admit I even entered such a place, but we wound up there one night and wanted to have a quick drink and, well, a passer-by recommended it.” She searched Laura’s face and registered her growing impatience. “So, to cut a long story short, we saw Charles there. He had a dancing girl on his knee. He never saw us. We kept it to ourselves. I’m sorry, Laura. I guess we hoped it was nothing sinister; that the girls in that bar were just offering customers a cheap thrill, you know? They were scantily dressed and dancing quite provocatively, I must say.”
Laura looked unaffected. She knew her husband loved the nightlife. Nothing shocking there. Besides, she was certain that women were part of the fun in the places he was likely to frequent.
“Anyway, Ian decided to have his stag night there. And that night, he saw Charles again. He had the same dancer on his knee. And then . . .” Maggie paused to swallow hard. “And then, they went to an upstairs room, together . . .”
“I see,” said Laura, raising a single brow. Her expression was strangely calm.
“Ian asked the manager about the girls, pretending he was interested in that sort of thing. He fished for information and found out that Charles is a regular customer. He’s been going there for years, Laura! Spending a lot of money on the girls. And that one, the one that Ian saw him with twice, was just one of his regulars . . . You know what I mean.” Maggie pursed her lips and gave Laura a suggestive nod.
“I see,” repeated Laura, shaking her head.
“Don’t you mind, Laura?” asked Paul.
“It’s almost like you don’t care. Or did you know already?” piped up Meg.
“I knew only by instinct . . . It’s not like we have much of a love life anyway,” she admitted with a nervous chuckle. It was a bold remark to make in the presence of another man, but she didn’t care. Paul had just punched her husband to save her from his grasp; he’d hardly be shocked to hear any remarks of hers after that. Still, shamed, Laura didn’t dare face her friends and stared at her lap instead.
Maggie placed a gentle hand on Laura’s shoulder. “What are you going to do?”
“What do you mean? What can I do? I am his wife and his prisoner. There is nothing I can do.”
Maggie removed her hand and drew back in shock. “So that’s it? You’ll just succumb to his threats? You’re going to stand for his infidelity? This disgusting practice behind your back?”
Laura finally looked up and threw glances at everyone, the look in her eyes similar to a frightened animal’s that runs away at the sound of gunshot. “Leaving him would be dangerous. Is it only I who can see it? He’s not well. I swear, he’s deranged! I fear for my child’s life!” Willing herself to stop and calm down, Laura brought a hand over her mouth. Her face had turned into a mask of terror. It silenced her friends, causing their agreeable smiles to fade and disappear.
A long silence ensued. Only Freddie spoke now, playing on the carpet with his new toys, making all sorts of delightful noises. He looked up at the string of grownups gazing down at him mutely and cocked his head. They all looked drawn, defeated, but they tried to smile at him the best they could.
Laura seemed to be doing a better job than the others. Freddie’s eyes lit up and he stood, then jumped on her lap, offering her generously his widest smile.
Chapter 5
The doorbell rang with urgency. Seconds later, Maggie entered Laura’s bedroom with a wide smile on her face.
Laura’s shoulders jumped. “What is it?”
“Oh, Laura!” Maggie rushed to sit on the edge of the bed beside her friend, her eyes glazed over. She bent over to leave a tender kiss on Freddie’s cheek, who played on the carpet with his wooden blocks, then fixed Laura with a puzzling smile that rendered Mona Lisa’s the most fathomable one in the world.
Laura stared at her, lost for words for a second or two, then brought both hands to her heart with a sharp gasping sound. She clutched the fabric of her skirt in one trembling fist. “Is it the boys?”
Maggie nodded, the
corners of her lips curling upwards in a hesitant smile.
Laura bounced on the bed, her heart jumping in her chest at the same time. “Tell me! Did you get a letter? Are they all right?”
“They are alive, Laura! They were both rescued from Dunkirk!”
Laura reached out with open arms and cuddled her friend, crying. It brought on fresh tears in Maggie’s eyes, too.
Maggie winced and shook her head. “It’s not all good news, Laura.”
“Tell me everything! Start from the beginning.” Laura’s eyes betrayed her alarm. She’d heard the stories. Plenty of minefields and bombs from the sky had chopped up many rescued soldiers badly. She was prepared they might be injured. But as long as they were alive, the joy in her heart could not be dampened. Not today.
Maggie took a deep breath. “Eric wrote that their small battalion found chaos on the beach in Dunkirk. It was hellish in the town too. When they heard that small boats were coming to pick them up from the shallow waters, the troops made a makeshift jetty and waited. When the first paddle steamers arrived, they couldn’t believe Brighton’s pleasure boats were among them. Eric said it made them feel like home was closer, somehow.”
Laura brought a hand to her mouth willing herself to stay strong. With a single nod, she urged Maggie to continue.
“The boys watched as the Brighton Queen, The Brighton Belle, The Waverley and The Glen Gower paraded before their eyes. They didn’t just take the troops home to Ramsgate, Laura. They also helped along with other small boats to ferry the troops from the shallows to our destroyers that waited in the open water. But it wasn’t easy. The Luftwaffe bombers didn’t stop hurling fire at them.”
“So, how did the boys escape?”
“By miracle, it seems. They had to wait for hours in the water shoulder-deep, just to have a good chance to get rescued first when the next boat came. And, all the while, they had to look out for the enemy aircraft strafing and bombing overhead. Eric said it was the most frightening part of the war they had to face.”
“I can imagine . . .”
“Anyway, after hours waiting in the water, they boarded The Brighton Queen.”
Laura’s eyes widened. “They were rescued by one of our own?”
“No, not in the end. You see, it was The Queen’s fateful second trip off Dunkirk—”
“Oh, my God!”
“Yes.” Maggie shook her head. “Just when they thought they had been saved, a couple of dive bombers went down on them pretty harshly. When the explosion came, they couldn’t really tell if it was a bomb from the air or a torpedo from the enemy submarines. Eric wrote the blast was horrific. Both the boys wound up back in the sea in an instant . . .” Maggie’s voice trailed off, and she threw Laura a hesitant glance.
“And?” Laura hung from her lips, praying for the rest of it to come. Her heart thudded so hard now, it felt like it was about to burst in her chest.
“That’s when the boys got wounded. Both of them, Laura. They never realized how it happened. The boat was packed with troops and there was debris everywhere when the boat was hit. Broken seats, sharp metal . . .”
“What injuries did they suffer? Tell me.” Laura’s words came out surprisingly calm, collected. The way she clenched and unclenched one fist repeatedly though, suggested she found it very hard to remain that way.
“They both hit the water violently. Eric hurt his head in the explosion and lost consciousness. If it weren’t for the other men to hold his head above water, he’d have drowned for sure.”
Laura brought a trembling hand to her lips. “Is he all right?”
“He suffered a serious head trauma and was unconscious for a good while, then had amnesia for a few weeks. This is why he hadn’t managed to write earlier. But thankfully, he is fine now.” Maggie exhaled audibly.
“Thank the Lord! And Christian?”
“Christian was hurt in the leg.” Maggie bit her lip. “Laura, I regret to say, his thigh was blown up to smithereens . . . Eric said that only a bit from the rest of his leg hung from it like dead weight. Bone and muscle . . . it was all gone in the blast.”
“Oh my God . . .” Laura’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes full of dread.
“Thankfully, just minutes later, a minesweeper came to the rescue. It carried them to safety across the Channel along with as many others as it could allow on board without fear of sinking.”
“How is he, Maggie? Tell me the truth.”
“I’m sorry, Laura. Of course, he’s lost his leg. As I said, from the thigh down, there was just nothing left to save.”
“Poor Christian . . . What he must have been through!” Laura broke down crying, despite thinking earlier that whatever it was, it didn’t matter. Yes, he was alive. But to think of this terrible ordeal was just too much to bear.
Maggie put her arms around her. “All that matters is that they are all right now, Laura. They were saved from this nightmare. They survived the war, no matter the cost, don’t you see?”
Laura dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief and braved a little smile. “Where are they now?”
“They’re together in a house of convalescence in Kent. Some stately home, apparently. I have the address. Do you wish to write to him?”
“Me? Write to him? Oh no, I couldn’t possibly!”
“But why not, Laura? Why not offer him some good news? Why not tell him how happy you are he made it? What’s happened belongs in the past. Water under the bridge and all that. Isn't the fact that he was saved a sign?”
Laura knitted her brows. “A sign?”
“Think about it, Laura! You have a child together. He’s been a hair’s breadth away from getting killed. He’s practically living a brand new life now. Do you think he’d bear grudges for the hurts of the past? Don’t you think he’ll want to know he has a son?”
“I don’t know . . . I . . .” Laura shot upright and paced to the opposite wall and back, a deep frown on her brow.
Maggie waited until Laura came to stand before her, then placed a tender hand on her own stomach. “Do you think that when Ian writes I won't tell him my good news? A child is growing inside me, Laura. What better news can a soldier hear than the coming of a new life? A soldier faces death every day, sometimes his very own! Do you think the past matters? And just as Ian will be delighted that there’s a new life growing back home because of him, so will Christian. I just know it!” Maggie stood and placed a hand on Laura’s shoulder. “Trust me.”
“I need time . . . time to think about it. I don’t know.”
“Is this just about Charles? Because if it is, you shouldn’t worry so much.”
Laura shook her head and pulled away. Mutely, she paced to the window to gaze at the grey sky. Thunder clouds gathered from the east, dark and threatening.
Maggie walked up to her and stood behind her. “You and Christian can start a new life together, far from here. You and your child. Charles will not be able to touch you. Not if you move far away.”
Laura turned around to face her. “Away? Away, where?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps Devon. I’m sure Christian will go back there to pick up his life from where he left off. He could take you and Freddie along, if only you let him.”
Laura shook her head, unbelieving. “You have it all worked out.”
“But why not?”
Laura’s face dropped, her eyes pooling with tears. “Why not? I’m afraid, Maggie! You don’t know Charles. Not like I do. You should see his eyes whenever he threatens me not to leave him. He means it, Maggie. This man is capable of anything!” Her upper lip twisted with dread at the very thought of his anger unleashing, should she ever dare abandon him.
“I think you’re being irrational. If you and Christian decide to make a new life together with your child, I know nothing could ever stop you. Surely Charles would be upset if you left him; hurt even. But he is highly unlikely to chase you halfway across England!”
Laura didn’t say anything this time. She only turned
around again, to gaze at the beach stretching out beyond the windowpane. The shore was sealed off with coiled barbed wire as far as the eye could see. Her mind drifted and she spared a thought for the West Pier. These days, it wasn’t just sealed off, but also the Pier head and the landing stages had been booby-trapped. Even the seabed had been strewn with depth charges in case Mr Hitler dared to use the Pier to invade.
In her beloved Concert Hall, the place that held her fondest memory of the Pier from that New Year’s Eve dance with Christian, nowadays was a firing station for the Army, manned at all times. Where people used to let their hair down, dance, sing and fall in love, now its only dwellers fixed their eyes to the horizon, ready to kill or be killed. What kind of madness has possessed the world?
Laura sighed deeply. The blackout curtains that were drawn back on either side of the window frame reminded her the war was still underway. But the seabirds flying across the sky, sweeping carefree above all the wire fencing, ignoring the ‘keep off’ signs and all the ghastly insanity of the world, gave her heart wings that one day, just maybe, she might be free like that, too.
Chapter 6
1988
In the wee hours of the morning, well before dawn, Sofia’s eyes snapped open. She sat up and looked at the clock on her bedside table. Half past three. She placed a hand on her heart, to feel it kicking hard against her breastbone. The Lady had visited her again, but this was unlike any other dream. This time, The Lady wasn’t alone. At first, she stood dressed in white, holding hands with a young man by the railing near the Concert Hall. Her stark red curls flowed in the breeze, some rising into the air like wandering flames, others caressing her face, her ruby lips young and smiling, her eyes sparkling green like a spring meadow.
The young man was faceless. The only memorable thing about him was a rusty brown scarf that he wore loosely around his neck. As always, The Lady had Sofia’s face, and in this dream she was happy. The couple stood on the Pier by the railing, outside the Concert Hall. She began to sing a joyful song of love, and the man caressed her face, holding her closely in his arms.
The Storm Page 3