Generations of Love

by Wendy Pulford

  ‘Complaining about his treatment? If I’d caught him he’d have been nursing a broken jaw this morning. Willing or not, there are certain ways for a gentleman to treat a lady, and in my book he is not a gentleman. I intend to make a report of the whole matter. If you wish to do so yourself then that is a matter for you. I will now interview your niece to obtain the facts from her. You are welcome to be present if you wish.’

  ‘No, I do not.’

  ‘Very well, Sir, may I proceed?’

  Franklin just looked at him and then waved him away.

  Alex left the room, unable to comprehend the man’s attitude to a niece he had helped to raise from a child. It seemed to him as if she was regarded as a chattel, or a parcel. He looked at the closed door of the office and dreaded the next few minutes.

  *

  Catherine was finding it hard to concentrate. The interview with her uncle had been a worse experience even than last night. How had he known what had happened? Grace or Dougie must have told him; how else would he know? Or had Duncan been in touch with him, putting his side of the story?

  Her uncle made it seem as if she had been in the wrong. ‘I don’t understand you sometimes Catherine. Why make all that fuss? At your age, you should know men do that sort of thing, even more so when pretty girls they fancy are involved. You can’t be so naïve as not to know that matters can become a little heated sometimes.

  ‘If I’d had my way you would have been married long ago, and I’m afraid the time has come when you can no longer ignore your responsibilities. I shall have to take steps to see that the situation does not continue for much longer.’

  Finding her voice at last, she retorted, ‘I don’t consider that I am a responsibility, and I will marry someone I love, and who loves me.’

  Her uncle just smiled and shook his head. ‘It seems you have not yet learnt what happens in the real world. I have spent years grooming you to make a good marriage, and this is what will happen whether you like it or not.’

  Although shocked at his words, she managed to reply, ‘I think the whole idea is Victorian’, and left his study without another word.

  There couldn’t be any way he could force her into a marriage against her will, was there? After all she was over twenty-one. Perhaps Sarah had been correct all along and she should have left this household years ago.

  She heard the knock on her door, and guessed who it was. Her mouth went dry and her knees started to shake, but she knew he would come in anyway.

  Turning to face him, she had what she hoped was her composure in place. He was standing leaning against the closed door, just looking at her. She couldn’t read his expression and, as usual, had no idea what he was thinking.

  ‘I suppose you’ve heard everything that has happened. All the lurid details!’ That remark wasn’t fair, but she had to build a wall between them as fast as she could, otherwise she was sure she would have given in to her instinct to walk over to him and bury her face in his chest, just wanting to be held in his arms.

  She saw his expression change, but again it was impossible to gauge what he was thinking. She turned back to her desk and shifted a few papers around.

  ‘I’m rather busy. Is this a business or social visit?’

  She wanted to lash out at someone, and he was the obvious choice, but in an instant she regretted her tone.

  ‘Catherine, stop it!’ He sounded as if he was trying to keep his anger under control. ‘I’m prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt today, so goading me just won’t work. I’ve already spent an uncomfortable time with your uncle and I would just as soon not spend the same with you. I need to hear your side of last night’s events in order to make an official report. Your uncle has declined to be present, but if you wish either Sergeant Johnson or Grace to be here I have no argument with that.’

  She sat down as her legs gave way beneath her.

  ‘What do you want to know?’ She felt too tired to bother any more.

  ‘Tell me what happened.’

  As she went through it all, he interrupted her to ask for more clarification on a couple of points. It became more difficult when she had to describe how she had been touched. Then it was over. She hadn’t noticed that he had moved to sit on the corner of her desk.

  ‘I’m sorry I had to ask you to relive it all again.’ His voice sounded soft.

  She looked up at him, the tears ready to spill over. She heard him swear under his breath. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and then stilled. She could feel his hand on her skin as he turned her face up. He was looking at her neck. He pulled down the high collar of her jumper. She had worn it on purpose when she had noticed the marks on her skin.

  ‘Have you any more like that?’ he asked, his voice quiet and controlled.

  All she could do was nod. She wanted to turn her head, lay it down on his palm and go to sleep.

  He stood, and the abrupt movement startled her.

  ‘You’re tired out. I suggest you take yourself off to bed and get some rest. We’ll be leaving soon, so the house will be quiet. I’ll see you before I leave again tonight.’

  ‘Yes, I think I will go to my room. Thank you.’

  He turned to leave. ‘I’m sorry for what happened, if that’s of any comfort to you.’

  She gave him a small smile as he left. She had no way of knowing that he did so before he gave in to an overriding desire to take her in his arms and comfort her.

  CHAPTER 11

  Alex thought about Catherine for most of the day, and when they arrived back at Richmond he looked around for her. However, Grace told him that she had been asleep all day, and as far as she knew was still in her room. Alex wondered whether just to leave things there, but he had made a promise and wanted to keep his word. He went upstairs and knocked on her door. There was no answer, so he opened the door a fraction. The bedside light was on and he could see the figure in the bed. He had to make sure that she was alright. He moved across the room and looked down at her. She was curled up on her side with one arm flung out over the pillow. Her hair was tangled around her face and, as before, he swept it aside. Her skin felt cool to his touch and he tucked the covers closer around her. She looked very young and defenceless lying there, and he cursed under his breath at the rough handling she had received.

  In the short time since he had known her, he was now beginning to realise that thoughts of her were always with him, night or day. He couldn’t remember when a female had ever made such an impression on him. The growing protective feeling he had for her was strengthened by what had happened to her last night, and the level of shock and anger he had experienced on hearing the news of the assault still confused him. He must remember, however, that there was a job he had to do, and he couldn’t allow himself to become diverted from it. Maybe, when this was all over…? Then again, if her uncle was still involved in his enquiries, any further contact with her would be out of the question. Hell, why did it have to happen this way!

  His mind still on the problem, he returned to the kitchen. Grace looked at him in enquiry.

  ‘Miss Franklin is still asleep. It might be an idea if you wake her soon, Grace, or she might not sleep tonight, and start thinking about things again.’

  ‘I’ll do that, Alex. It’s kind of you to be so concerned.’

  He could see the question in her eyes as to his level of involvement, but she made no further comment.

  *

  He wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing. He turned off his normal route home and headed for South Kensington. During his talk with Catherine this morning he had sensed her loneliness and vulnerability. She needed friends, and this was the only way he could think of to help her.

  Sarah answered the door. ‘Well what a nice surprise,’ she beamed. ‘Come on in Alex.’ She called over her shoulder. ‘Jerry, it’s Alex.’

  ‘I
’m sorry to intrude. I can’t stop long anyway.’

  ‘That’s OK. Do you want a coffee or anything.’

  ‘No, I’m fine, thanks. Sarah, I think you ought to know Miss Franklin had a bad experience last night.’

  Sarah looked at him, anxiety apparent on her face. ‘What’s wrong, Alex?’

  He went on to tell them both what had happened. To his surprise, Sarah put her head in her hands and groaned, ‘Oh, not again!’

  ‘What on earth do you mean, “not again”, Sarah?

  ‘We were having a chat a year or two ago…’ she looked at the two men for a moment, hesitating, and then went on. ‘Catherine told me when she was at her school in Switzerland there was an incident which happened to her, and from what you have said, Alex, it sounds very much like the same thing. She must be wondering what on earth men are all about by now, I should imagine. Do you wonder she’s so diffident? How can you reach out when you’re afraid of the response?’

  Jerry spoke then. ‘You know, I’ve always thought of her like a young animal who doesn’t know whether to trust you or not, and you have to be patient and coax them. It took me a while to get to know her.’

  On hearing this, Alex recognised her attitude this morning, the underlying need for comfort – from him. It appeared that their relationship had undergone a subtle change since the night he had brought her home. She trusted him more, and the depth of his own feeling for her, which he was now forced to admit, frightened him.

  He felt torn and anxious. For so long his mind had been fixated on climbing his career ladder and women had been an occasional, if pleasant, diversion. There had been no real emotional attachment to any of them; but since he had known Catherine he had experienced feelings foreign to him and the need to get to know her better was like a sweet ache inside him. Then his mind moved on to how he would feel if they got to know each other well, but having found her confidence, she didn’t need him any more. It would be difficult to let her go. These were all thoughts he had not anticipated, and he needed a quiet moment to work them out in his mind.

  For now, though, he had to enlist Sarah’s help.

  ‘She looked worn out this morning when I saw her. I don’t understand the attitude of her uncle either. He doesn’t even seem as if he’s bothered about her safety.’

  ‘I’ve never liked the man. I don’t like his eyes. I’ve told Catherine before that she should get away from the house and live somewhere else, even on her own. I’ll have to speak to her again.’

  ‘Don’t tell her that I’ve been to see you.’

  ‘Why not, Alex? I think it was a rather nice thing to do.’

  ‘I just thought it might help her if you knew. I’m afraid I have to go now. I’m changing shifts. I’m on nights from tomorrow, so I’ve things to do. I’ll let myself out.’

  *

  Catherine knew she had slept too much, and spent most of the next day out in the garden. She wanted the fresh air and exercise. As usual, she felt at peace just pottering around by herself. She was called in to take a telephone call from Sarah during the morning, and although it was never mentioned, Catherine had the distinct impression that she was aware of what had happened. She wondered who had spoken to Sarah and thought it was certain to have been Grace.

  She didn’t see Alex Hartman at all during the day. She wasn’t even sure what shift he was working, but that evening she heard his car arriving. She passed him in the hall as she was going up to bed, and gave him a small smile.

  His polite, ‘Good evening. Are you alright?’ was formal, but his grey eyes were warm and she could feel him watching her as she went up the stairs.

  She woke during the night feeling thirsty, and decided on a glass of milk. She knew they had been warned about moving around the house at night, but it would only take a minute.

  She put on a full-length pink robe over her long satin nightdress and decided to go in bare feet. She opened her door. All was still. She crept downstairs and into the kitchen. It was empty.

  She reached into a cupboard, retrieved a glass and was just moving over to the fridge when she was conscious of a dark figure coming through the outer door. She gasped with fright and the glass fell from her hand, breaking on the kitchen floor.

  She was about to take a step when she heard Alex’s voice, sharp and urgent. ‘Don’t move, Catherine’. Before she knew what had happened she was swung up into strong arms and deposited on the kitchen worktop. His hands were round her waist, she could feel them through her gown.

  ‘You little idiot, you could have walked in the glass with your bare feet. Let me have a look at you.’

  He moved away and put on one of the lights. Coming back, he brushed away the folds of her skirts and with care inspected both feet. It was nice to feel his hands on her skin, and she began to feel a slow mounting excitement.

  He let go of her and, pulling her clothes back into position, said, ‘They look alright to me. Now stay there while I clear this mess up. What on earth are you doing down here anyway? You were warned about wandering around at night.’

  ‘I just needed a drink of milk.’ She knew that sounded quite childish, but didn’t want him angry with her again, and added, ‘I’m sorry. I overreacted, I suppose.’

  ‘You do quite a lot of that, don’t you.’

  He didn’t sound so angry now.

  ‘Do you realise you called me by my name just now.’

  ‘Did I? I wanted to stop you moving, I suppose,’ was his casual answer. ‘Do you have a problem with that?’

  ‘No. Can I call you Alex?’

  ‘I don’t see any reason why not.’

  He was rummaging in the cupboard for a dustpan and brush and she started to get off the worktop to show him where it was. ‘For God’s sake, will you stay put,’ he ground out, locating what he needed.

  Catherine subsided back on her perch. It was rather nice to be down here alone with him in the warm kitchen. It was an intimate feeling, but she was not afraid in the least.

  She gasped as the door into the hall opened and her uncle stood there surveying the scene.

  ‘I thought I heard a noise. What’s going on here?’

  ‘Your niece was getting a drink and dropped the glass. As she has bare feet I’m clearing the broken glass out of the way before anyone gets hurt. Otherwise there’s no problem.’ Showing no embarrassment at the situation, Alex continued his cleaning up and turned away into the scullery with his pan.

  Catherine could feel her uncle staring at her.

  ‘I think its time you were back in bed, young lady, and perhaps it would be a good idea to take a drink to bed with you instead of coming down during the night. I am sure Inspector Hartman has better things to do than clear up behind you.’

  The meaning was clear in his tone.

  For a moment she considered making a comment, but then decided it would be better not to.

  Alex came back into the kitchen and, ignoring the Judge, looked at Catherine. ‘Do you want me to lift you down or can you manage?’

  She knew she could manage, but she wanted to feel his hands around her waist again. She moved forward a little and then held out her hand to him. He stepped to her and, as she had hoped, placed his hands on her waist and with no effort, lifted her down and set her on her feet. His hands, however, remained in place for a second or two longer than was perhaps required. She looked up at him as he released her, not altogether forgetting the other person present, but somehow needing to make her independence register.

  ‘Thank you, Alex. Good night.’ With a rustle of her soft skirts she disappeared out of the room.

  Alex stood looking at Franklin, waiting for a comment, but with nothing more than a cool glare the other man turned on his heel and also left the room.

  It was a pity the Judge had appeared, Alex thought. It would have been nice to have Catherine sitting in the quiet ki
tchen with him. They might have been able to talk for once.

  He then realised that she still didn’t have her drink. He contemplated taking one up to her but thought better of it; the situation was becoming awkward enough without that sort of gesture.

  CHAPTER 12

  As Arthur had taken Grace out shopping the next morning, Catherine was preparing breakfast. Her uncle had left a note that he required her to attend at the British Museum library on Monday to do some urgent research for him and also that he had accepted an invitation to a French Embassy reception on Tuesday night and required her to accompany him. He had been cool and distant since their argument, but she felt that she ought to continue to assist him in his social activities as she was, after all, still living under his roof.

  Dougie was on duty. She made him a cup of coffee and sat with him in the kitchen. He was pleased to see that she had regained her composure and was looking happier. He felt she wanted to talk to him and he thought he knew about what, or rather, whom.

  ‘Dougie,’ she asked, ‘have you worked with Alex a lot?’

  The use of the Christian name instead of her more usual form of address was not lost on him.

  ‘I think I’ve told you before that I’ve worked with him in the past, and known of him through the grapevine before and since then. He’s pretty single-minded and focused on his career, which doesn’t always lend itself to being well liked by others. However, I have to say, although a little younger than me, I’ve always got on with him well enough. The impression he gives me is that he has a strong sense of duty and you can be sure he puts in one hundred per cent of himself. Working with him I’ve found him hard but fair, as young Carl found out, and you always know where you are with him. He’s good at his job. He must be to have reached the position he has now. He’s come a long way from his original background, and I mean not the silver spoon sort.’

  He shot a quick look at the young woman. She wasn’t an idiot and knew what he meant.

  ‘As I’ve said, the trouble with trying to succeed is that you have to be determined to get what you want, almost to the exclusion of anything else. You sometimes don’t have the time or the inclination for other aspects of life, like relationships, etcetera. Or they are, at the very least, not given great importance.’