The girl was wearing a white fur hat and a matching necklet and muff. Then, on a gurgling laugh, she flew up the room and once more flung her arms about David, crying, ‘Oh, they’re beautiful! Beautiful, David. Thank you so much. You are kind. Oh, I am glad to see you back. You’ll stay? You’re going to stay? Oh, Mama’—she turned her head towards Nancy Ann—‘do make him stay.’
‘Rebecca, now, now, behave yourself and let David alone for a moment. Where is Mary?’
Rebecca now swung round and pirouetted with her hands held out before her and tucked into her muff, and she almost sang, ‘She’s in the kitchen. They’re all in the kitchen, and everybody is very excited. It’s like Christmas, only better.’ She turned again to David and was once more about to embrace him when Nancy Ann said sternly, ‘Now, now, no more; let David sit down. And behave yourself. You’re not a little girl any more. And she’s acting like one, isn’t she, David?’
He said nothing to this but he put out his hand and gently touched Rebecca’s cheek. The gesture caused her to remain still while she stared at him. And then, he said softly, ‘She’s going to be a beautiful woman like her mother.’
‘Will I? Will I be beautiful like Mama?’
‘Yes, yes, you will.’ The question had been quiet and the answer was equally quiet. Then they both looked at Nancy Ann folding up the kimono and seemingly unaware of what they had been saying. But her voice, too, was quiet as she said, ‘Go and ask Mary to bring us tea, will you, dear?’
‘Yes, yes, Mama.’
‘But first of all, go upstairs and put those beautiful furs away. You don’t want to soil them, do you?’
‘No, Mama.’ Sedately now the girl walked from the room.
Left alone, there was silence between them, except for the rustling of the tissue paper that she placed over the garment before putting the striped lid on the box again. She had pinned the brooch back onto the neck of the garment and, after a while, she raised her head and looked towards him. But he wasn’t looking at her now, his gaze was directed towards the fire. And it stayed so for an embarrassingly long time, for neither of them spoke until, his voice hardly audible now, he said, ‘You know what I’d like to do?’
‘No, David. I’ve…I’ve no idea.’
‘Well, I’d like to take you into Newcastle to a theatre. I’d like to sit beside you in a box and see you laugh at the antics of those on the stage. Then after that, I’d like to take you to supper in a discreet restaurant. There we’d have a table to ourselves and we’d drink wine and have a good meal. And then—’ His voice stopped.
Her lips were trembling again, her teeth chattering and, like the percussions given off from a drum, the vibration was passing through her whole body and a voice was saying to her, Oh, no, no, don’t be ridiculous, when he turned and looked at her and said, ‘But I can’t, can I? Because you are married, and because I’m David, the garret creature, as Staith once called me.’
She looked down at her joined hands as she said, ‘I’m sorry you should feel like that, and I’m sorry it was necessary for you to keep to the kitchen quarters, but…but then you lived in the cottage for…’
‘For how long? And that came too late. My home, as you know, wasn’t even the garret, it was a corner under the roof. You know, when I think of it now I want to lash out, break something.’ He looked around, before adding quietly but bitterly, ‘But most of all, I want to break him.’
‘Please, please.’ She went to rise, then changed her mind. ‘Please don’t say things like that. He…he allowed you and your mother to stay and, knowing him as I do, that was a big concession. It may not appear so to you.’
‘Oh, don’t talk to me like that, my dear.’ He had called her ‘my dear’, not ma’am any more. ‘He was forced into that by my uncle. Although just a common working man, he was an intelligent one, and if my mother had been thrown out he would have blazoned it in the main papers of the day. And you say your husband allowed us to stay. But how did he allow it? It was all right, I understand, if I could be strapped in the basket, but once I began to toddle around and cry, that was another thing. I was put on a lead. Did you know that? Like an animal. A circle was cleared on the floor and, like an ox, I could walk or crawl round it. And should I cry, then I was administered drops of laudanum. I look back now and think it was very strange that I should, at the age of three, have learned not to cry, because even then, something in me rebelled at my mind being dulled. And at an early age, too, I learned cunning. I could undo the buckle and the straps and wander round the attics. It was in one of them that I first saw the picture of my father. But I only saw him as a man with golden hair, while mine was streaked with tea.’
He paused here, and his look and voice altering, he said, ‘During one of the days I escaped I made my way down to the river and I sat on a stone and a dog came and sat beside me; then a fairy came out of the wood looking for it. That day is as clear in my mind as this moment.’
Her eyelids were blinking. She was near to tears, but she told herself she must not allow them to flow, because once she allowed the water gate to open, God knows what would happen, especially with this man sitting there looking at her the way Graham looked at her, and as Dennison once had. She forced herself to smile and say lightly, ‘I never thought of myself as a fairy, and I’m sure my parents didn’t. I know I was a source of worry to my mother because I was such a tomboy. I had two good tutors.’ Her voice trailed away and they were left staring at each other. And she was searching in her mind for something to say to break the deadlock and alter that look in his eyes when the door burst open and Mary stood there, and in a hoarse whisper she said, ‘The master…the master’s just come into the yard.’
Then she was gone again, banging the door behind her.
They were both on their feet and she was gasping now, ‘Oh, David, David, please, please come out this way, and go to the…and go to…I mean, please…’
‘Why should I? We’ve got to meet some time.’
‘David—’ She was standing in front of him, her hands joined tightly together, imploring him now, ‘He…he’s a sick man. He…he’s half demented with worry. And, please, I beg of you.’
When he still didn’t move, she put her hands out and gripped the lapels of his coat and, her voice, a mere hissing whisper now, she said, ‘If you love me, do what I ask. Please go.’ There was a pause while their gaze held fast; then she had hold of his hand, drawing him up the room and through the far door which led into the dining room. Still holding his hand, she pulled him across it and through another door and into a passage, and there was the green-baized door that led to the kitchen quarters.
She grabbed the handle to open the door, but he stopped her, saying gently, ‘I know the way, my dear,’ and taking her hand, he lifted it to his mouth and pressed the palm against his lips. Then quite slowly, he opened the door, went through, and closed it after him.
Now she leant her back against it and, lifting her eyes to the ceiling, once again she asked of something beyond it how it was possible to love two men at the same time, and she wasn’t including Dennison in her thoughts now.
Four
She had warned Rebecca not to mention David’s visit to her father, even knowing the while that this would be unlikely, for Dennison rarely held any conversation with his daughter even when he was sober, and feeling, too, that her daughter had grown a little afraid of this distant man. Nevertheless, she warned her; however, she never expected that it would be Dennison himself who would mention David’s name and through white fury.
It was more than three weeks since David arrived in England and he hadn’t paid another visit to the house. Rebecca was constantly asking after him and only yesterday she’d had to reprimand her strongly and remind her that David was a man who had his own life to live and was no longer a member of the household. And her daughter had silenced her for a moment when she had said tearfully, ‘I like David, Mama. I love him. And…and anyway, he’s my cousin.’
‘Who�
�who told you that?’
‘He did. And anyway, Mary explained it a long time ago. His father was drowned in the river like William. His father was my uncle, so he is my cousin, and…and I’ve always known that Jennie was his mother.’
The next question she could have asked her daughter was: Did you know that Jennie wasn’t married to your uncle and so, therefore, legally he is no relation to you? He is what you call illegitimate. Oh, that word, that beastly stigma. She had always thought it was unfair that a signature on a paper could scar so many lives. There were two children she remembered at the village school with her who bore the stigma and at times were taunted by others.
She wished from the bottom of her heart that David would return to Australia and without calling on them again.
She had noticed for days there was a strong atmosphere in the house: it was as if the staff knew something that she didn’t know. She questioned Mary, saying, ‘Is anything afoot, Mary?’ And Mary looked at her full in the face and said, ‘Not that I know of, yet I feel the same as you ma’am. But I can’t put my finger on anything. I feel that Robertson knows something, but what, he doesn’t say, although I’ve quizzed him.’
For the past week Dennison had been at home and he had been sober, but this was of necessity because there were only a few bottles of light wine left in the cellar. Yesterday he had come knocking on her bedroom door, and she had been surprised it was he who entered after she had called ‘Come in.’
‘I must talk to you, Nancy Ann,’ he had said; and he seemed very much his old self. ‘Sit down.’ He had pointed to a chair near the window, and she had sat down. But he had remained standing, looking out over the balcony, and she could only see part of his profile. He had begun by saying, ‘I don’t have to tell you things are in a bad way. You know I’m selling the farm and five hundred acres?’
She made no reply, and after a moment he went on, ‘Well, it went through today, but it’s not going to make all that difference, the bank has swallowed up the lot. And I…I had better tell you that unless I can raise twenty thousand within the next few days, they’ll…they’ll foreclose.’ He swung round now and looked down on her and, his teeth grinding against each other, he said, ‘Did you hear what I said? They’ll foreclose. More than that, they’ll confiscate everything, every stick in the house. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, I understand,’ she had said. ‘And now, I’ll ask you a question, Dennison. Who are you blaming for this misfortune?’
She noticed his stomach and his chest swell before he ground out, ‘All right, all right. I’ve been mad, foolish, but I haven’t been played straight with; there’s been some dirty business. Myers is at the bottom of it. Yes, yes, my one-time mistress’s husband. She said she would get even, and by God, she has, with the help of my one-time friend. I tell you, I’ve been cheated, drugged and cheated.’
‘Drugged?’ Her face was screwed up and she repeated, ‘Drugged?’
‘Yes, my dear, drugged. These things happen. Your drink is doped; you gamble stupidly, wildly, sure that you are going to make a fortune. It happened more than once. I should have known, twigged something, but I wouldn’t believe it. I wouldn’t have risked five thousand at a time, even ten thousand once, if I had been in my ordinary senses. Oh yes, you can look shocked, but these things happen. And now…oh my God!’ He turned from her and put his hands to his head, grinding out the words, ‘I won’t be able to stand it. I can’t.’
She looked at him, pity filling her as she watched him turn from the window and drop onto a chair and, resting his elbows on his knees, hold his head in his hands and say, ‘When the end comes, as it’s bound to, you’ll go and stay with your grandmama. She’ll be pleased to have you, as will your friend Graham. He’ll see you never starve.’
She was on her feet, crying now in indignation, ‘How dare you!’ And to this he raised a weary face, saying, ‘Oh, don’t be silly, woman. I know how the man feels about you, even before we married. He was just too late stepping in, that’s all. Had he had the courage to ask for you, your father would have welcomed him with open arms, whereas he loathed me from the day we first met. I represented the devil to him. Perhaps he was right.’ His voice sank on a weary note. ‘Anyway’—he now rose to his feet—‘I’ve told you how things stand.’ And as he turned towards the door, she said quietly, ‘Dennison. I’m…I’m sorry. Believe me, I’m…I’m heart sorry. May I ask if you’ve sought help from any of your friends?’
He turned fully towards her now, his expression one of utter weariness as he said, ‘Yes, my dear, I’ve applied to my friends. Those who would have helped me, such as Pat and George, are just managing to keep their own heads above water. Those of my so-called friends whose heads are well above the water have suddenly decided to take early holidays abroad.’
He now went to the door, but stopped there and looked down towards his hand gripping the knob and, quietly, he said, ‘I’m sorry for my treatment of you over the past few years.’
‘Dennison.’
He turned towards her.
‘What…what will you do?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t got that far. I don’t know how I’m going to take this, I really don’t.’
‘Dennison.’ She ran to him now and gripped his hand. ‘There is one person who would help you. Go to Graham. He would, he would help you, I know he would.’
He looked at her sadly for a moment before he said, ‘He has already offered a sum of ten thousand pounds. I thanked him, but refused, because it would just be like throwing money down a well, and, apart from taking advantage of a man whom I have never called friend, whom I’ve never even liked, I would have no hope of repaying him. The twenty thousand the bank needs is just the beginning. What would we live on? I have no money to pay the staff, nor the mountain of bills. I’ll say this, Graham Mercer is a good man; I wish I’d had the sense to make friends with such as he years ago.’
She took her hand from his and watched him open the door and go out. She watched him walk along the landing onto the balcony. She saw him pause and look first one way then the other, before going down the stairs. She then went back into the bedroom and, sitting down on the couch, she buried her face in her hands, and, racked now with pity, she cried for him.
The farm had been sold through an agent. Dennison hadn’t met the buyer, a man from abroad, by the name of Mather. Apparently he didn’t want to farm the land, he wanted only the house but had been quite willing to take the five hundred acres which he was prepared to let off as agricultural land. Taylor and his wife were ready for retirement anyway. They had found a little place in Low Fell. Their sons, Billy and Frank, had found jobs on other farms and had taken the last of their stock to market before leaving three days ago.
The house was more than a farmhouse; it had once been the manor house before his present home had been built…His present home! He had said he didn’t know how he was going to stand the break-up, and it was true. What could he do with his life? He had been trained for nothing but living like a gentleman.
The thought did enter his head that when the whole business was over he would take up Mercer’s offer of ten thousand and perhaps he could start again somewhere. But then, his step quickening, he muttered aloud, ‘No, no. By God, no! Not from him,’ for it would be like accepting a fee for leaving his wife in his charge. He did not know how Nancy Ann felt about the man but he certainly knew how the man felt about her, he knew that Mercer desired her for the same reason as he had done all those years ago.
If only she had been the kind of wife who could have countenanced an affair on the side, even lightly, he knew he wouldn’t have been in the position he was at this moment, for then he would have taken Rene again. Especially that time when she had openly offered herself to him in town and he had refused her, none too tactfully either. He knew he had been a fool, for as Rene had pointed out, he was in any case dispensing his favours here and there, and so why not include her among them.
He could date the comp
lete change in his luck from that meeting. She had been scorned and her rejection had likely become evident to Poulter Myers. The man had always hated him because his wife had made no secret of her feelings. So whether it had been openly planned or merely suggested, his downfall had been her aim. It had, however, been brought about by cheating, but in such a way that no-one could lay a finger on them. He should have suspected something that night he had woken up in Freeman’s rooms and found he owed him five thousand and Myers seven. They had all been very clever. They had let him win more than half of that back the next night. And so the pattern had gone on: one step forward and two steps backward.
He stopped on a rise and there, away down in the valley, lay the village. He could make out the chimneys and distinctly the spire of the small church, and bitterly he thought it was that House of God that had been his curse, not his gambling, his drinking or his whoring. No, none of these, but because from out of the vicarage had come a little girl full of spirit and freshness and naive purity which had attracted him from the first time he laid eyes on her. And the attraction had grown into a desire, a craving that could not be assuaged except by having her. And he’d had her, and with what result? She had been his ruin. Knowingly or unknowingly, she had been his ruin.
He entered the farmyard. There was no bustle here today: the line of horse boxes had no bobbing heads sticking over the half doors; there was no sound of cattle from the byres; Minnie Taylor wasn’t waddling her fat body towards him, her face one big smile; her husband wasn’t there to doff his cap; there was no shepherd, no cowman; there were no stable hands. The yard was swept clean, the ivy-covered house looked lonely. There were no curtains fluttering from the window, but—his eyes narrowed—the kitchen door was open. He walked towards it; then, pushing it wide, he stepped into the stone-flagged kitchen with its only remaining piece of furniture, a trestle table, and standing to the side of it was a tall, fair man.
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