by Lorna Cook
Melissa sipped her coffee and moved on to a chapter about the village cricket team and how it had disbanded at the start of the war when most of the young men had been called up or had voluntarily joined the army. A few photographs showed a couple of winning matches and there was a picture of the cricket team grouped together. The date showed the team holding a winner’s shield in 1937, two years before the outbreak of war. The photo had been taken too soon; one of the men was out of focus, as if he’d just run into the frame at the last second. His face was slightly blurry, but there was something about the foppish dark hair that struck her. She scanned the picture caption and was surprised to read the name at the end.
She sat up straight and said, ‘Who the hell is Freddie Standish?’
CHAPTER 25
Tyneham, December 1943
In the grounds of the house, Veronica’s skin prickled with cold and fear. Bertie’s triumphant smile cut through any last hope she had of leaving him.
She swallowed and her eyes widened in disbelief as she looked at Bertie. ‘What?’ she cried. ‘You’re going to kill him? You’re going to kill Freddie? Your own brother? You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.’
‘Wouldn’t I?’ He gave her a sideways look as he inhaled on his second cigarette. ‘You really think I wouldn’t do that? What are you comparing it to? All the other things I’ve ever done in this house?’
Veronica’s eyes darted about wildly. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t how this was supposed to end. She was supposed to be leaving. With Freddie. They were running away. They were finally going to be together.
‘I don’t believe you.’ She shook her head. ‘Even you wouldn’t do that.’
‘You do believe me, Veronica. It’s just that you don’t want to believe me.’
‘How?’ she asked.
Bertie looked confused. ‘What do you mean?’ He tilted his chin up towards her.
‘How are you going to kill him?’ she asked incredulously.
Bertie laughed. ‘If it’s details you want … the hunting guns are still here. Packed up and ready to go if any of the remaining staff have done what they’ve been bloody instructed to do, but still here. If you go inside the house and do as you’ve been told, you’ll save both your life and Freddie’s. If you don’t …’
Veronica gulped as Bertie shrugged and tailed off. She put her hand to her neck again, the sting of his grip still present. She was silent, stalling for time. Her mind was blank. What could she do? How could she fight him? How could she stop him? She looked at Bertie’s face. She’d never seen him look so calm. For the first time in a long time, he appeared to be a man entirely in control and he knew it. He would kill Freddie. Veronica could see that now. He’d almost killed her countless times. He was capable of killing his brother. She had to save Freddie. It was too late to save herself.
‘What will happen to me?’ she asked.
‘You?’
Veronica nodded. ‘What are you going to do with me? To me? After.’
‘Nothing.’
‘Nothing?’ she repeated. ‘I don’t under—’
‘You’re coming with me to London and wherever else I want to take you, where you will play the part of the dutiful, loving wife. You will cause me no further trouble. You will look elegant at parties. You do not get to leave – to make a fool of me. You will do whatever I want and, more importantly …’ He stepped forward and ran a finger down her neck and towards her chest, eyeing her hungrily even as she closed her eyes and recoiled, ‘you will carry out your wifely duties as and when I command.’
Tears sprang anew in her eyes. Bertie waited for her to respond. There was no way out. She could see that.
‘How do you know I won’t leave you?’ she asked, a tinge of defiance creeping back into her voice.
‘Oh, that’s easy enough to sort.’ He waved his hand casually as if he was batting away a fly. ‘You won’t leave the house without my say-so. I won’t go as far as locking you in your room, unless I find I have to, but you will go where I go when I want you to, and when that’s not possible, you will stay indoors unless otherwise instructed. I have a mind that we might need some additional staff. A few people I can rely on to keep an eye on you.’
She closed her eyes for a few seconds as she realised the format her life would take. From this moment on, there was only pain, imprisonment, and despair. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to survive Bertie’s brutality. He’d almost killed her one too many times in the bedroom when his mood had been dark and his body had been too overwrought with alcohol.
‘No,’ she cried. ‘You can’t do this.’ But she knew he could. There was no point carrying on. She could end it all, if she was brave enough. She had no idea at this moment in time if she was. The one thing she did know was that she had to save Freddie.
Bertie led Veronica back to the house, clutching her hand tightly and dragging her behind him. She didn’t know how her legs carried her. Her entire body felt weighted. As they came into the front hall, the fire flickered in the grate. Veronica stood by it, staring into the logs in a daze. She had no idea how cold she’d been outside until now.
As the fire danced in Bertie’s eyes, he stood opposite her. ‘You know what you have to do,’ he snarled. ‘Even one hint of a warning and I remove Freddie from our lives permanently. Do you understand? You have to see it from my point of view,’ Bertie reasoned in a lighter tone and stepped forward to stroke Veronica’s face. She gritted her teeth as he touched her. ‘He’s defiled my wife. It’s no more than he deserves.’
Veronica’s shoulders shook as she burst into tears. She wiped them away quickly in case Freddie appeared. Bertie looked on with a sympathetic expression that was almost five years too late. Then suddenly he moved to the boxes in the hall that held the newly packed guns and pulled out what he was looking for, assembling it expertly.
Veronica looked on, horrified, at the gun. How was this happening?
‘Go on then.’ Bertie loaded bullets and snapped the rifle closed, nodding his head to usher Veronica onwards. ‘Get rid of him.’
Bertie pushed Veronica along the hallway and into his office, where they could both hear Freddie packing the heavy ledgers. He thrust her through the door and stood back out of sight.
Freddie looked up from packing as Veronica entered. He cast her a loving expression and then appeared to check himself, glancing around in case Bertie was nearby to witness it. If only he knew how close Bertie really was. Veronica could feel his malevolent presence emanating from close behind her. She looked at the floor, hoping beyond hope that this was all a horrific nightmare, one from which she’d wake any moment now.
‘What’s wrong?’ Freddie asked, his smile fading as she continued looking at the floor. He reached inside his breast pocket and took out his silver engraved lighter. He put it on Bertie’s desk while he fumbled in his pocket for his cigarette case.
Veronica tried to speak but her mouth had gone dry. She licked her lips and knew that she needed to be convincing and fast if she was going to save Freddie’s life before Bertie changed his mind and shot his brother regardless.
‘Freddie.’ Her voice shook and she hoped he couldn’t hear it. ‘I’ve come to a decision about my future. And I’m sorry to say it doesn’t involve you.’
Freddie narrowed his eyes and smiled uncertainly and then the smile faded to be replaced with curiosity. He stopped fumbling with his cigarette case.
‘What?’ he asked. ‘Not this again.’
‘It’s for the best. Regardless of whether you love me or not, it would be wrong of me to encourage you any further. If I left with you tomorrow, it would only be because I needed you. Needed your help.’
‘Which I’m willing to give,’ Freddie confirmed, missing the point.
‘But that’s not enough. It’s not enough for either of us.’ Veronica heard Bertie’s feet shuffle gently and she started to panic further. She knew if Freddie doubted her for even a second, she would cave. She would blurt out th
e truth and beg him to run, which he wouldn’t. Not in time. And then he would die.
‘Veronica, why are you doing this?’ Freddie sounded exasperated. ‘Why now? Why at all? You know how I feel about you. I want to be with you.’
Veronica took a deep breath. ‘But I don’t want to be with you.’ She looked him straight in the eye and mustered her strength. ‘I don’t love you. I’m sorry to say it, but there it is. What happened in the beach hut … it shouldn’t have happened. I was … I don’t know. Your news about going to war. About being shot. It struck me. I felt sorry for you. And you helped me, when I needed you. With Bertie, I mean. You were just in the right place at the right time. That’s all it was—’
‘No,’ Freddie interjected. ‘No. I don’t believe you. You love me. I know you do.’
She looked away momentarily. ‘I thought I did. But I’m afraid I don’t. I realise that I would be treating you terribly cruelly if I allowed you to continue thinking that. I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t mean it.’ A lump formed in the back of her throat.
He stepped towards her and Veronica stepped backwards in response. Her face was impassive. ‘Don’t think this isn’t the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But it’s also the most honest,’ she lied.
Veronica could sense Freddie wavering. All she needed was a seed of doubt. He exhaled. ‘Why?’ he asked. ‘Why now?’
‘I want to do this on my own.’ She sped up. ‘If I leap from one brother to the next, yet again, I wouldn’t forgive myself.’ Veronica almost believed herself.
Freddie was silent and he looked at the floor. His brow furrowed. ‘But Bertie?’ he questioned. ‘You can’t …’
Veronica shook her head. ‘I’m not going to stay with him. Tomorrow. After the speech. I’ll leave then as I had always planned.’ She grimaced, knowing Bertie could hear her. The next sentence she uttered louder and more forcefully: ‘But you need to go. You need to be far away from here. Now.’
Freddie’s gaze rose from the floor and his voice rose with it. ‘Now?’ he queried. ‘You want me to leave now? You break it off with me, for a second time, and you expect me to just do as you ask and leave?’ His voice rose. ‘Why are you doing this?’
‘I’ve told you why, Freddie. Stop clinging on to something that never really was.’ She hated the necessary cruelty of her words and the pain she was causing him.
His eyes widened and he rubbed the palm of his hand across his mouth. ‘I don’t know why I even came here,’ he said quietly.
She could hear the agony in his voice and she dug her fingernails into the palm of her hands repeatedly, nervously.
‘This isn’t the same as before,’ he said. ‘This is different. Before, you were lured away by the promise of greater things that turned out to be lies. But now, what? I don’t understand. Help me understand.’ He looked at her imploringly.
‘I don’t have to help you understand, Freddie.’ Veronica didn’t know how her nerves were holding up. Her heart was thudding. ‘I just need you to go. You’re holding me up. I can’t leave if you’re still here. Don’t you see that. I need to make plans. You need to leave. Now. I’m sorry I led you on. I really am.’
‘You think you’re doing this to spare me, Veronica. But you aren’t. I can take it. I can take the hell of running from Bertie forever. We can do this together.’ He finished uncertainly, as if he knew the game was up.
‘It’s not enough, Freddie. You’re not enough,’ Veronica finished with more courage than she felt. It was brutal. But she had no other option. She had to save him. She thought of the ease with which Bertie had assembled the gun and knew she was doing the right thing.
Freddie nodded and looked away. He laughed bitterly as he walked towards the door. Veronica panicked. Was Bertie still there? How would he explain the gun to Freddie? Or would he just eschew all explanation and simply fire at Freddie? Please God, don’t let Bertie hurt him.
‘I’ll never stop loving you, you know. You’re ripping me to pieces again,’ Freddie said as he passed her.
She tried to rise taller, to make herself feel a strength that wasn’t real while avoiding his gaze.
‘Good luck, Veronica.’ His voice broke as he spoke and she closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall.
Moments later, she heard the front door open and close, signalling Freddie’s departure. Behind her, from the other side of the hall where he’d moved out of sight, Bertie laughed. Veronica put her hand to her mouth to muffle the wail of despair and relief that threatened to escape her lips. Freddie had left her life forever. Whatever happened to her next, at least she’d saved the man she loved.
CHAPTER 26
Dorset, July 2018
In the hotel lounge, Guy looked up, his eyes conveying confusion at his surroundings. He’d obviously been miles away, out to sea with the Little Ships.
‘Er, sorry?’ He blinked, refocusing on Melissa.
‘Who the hell is Freddie Standish?’ she repeated.
She held the book out to show him. He looked from the image of the assembled cricket team to the caption, clearly puzzled. ‘A typo maybe? A shame we can’t see his face. Although it sort of looks like Sir Albert. But it’s hard to tell. Maybe a cousin or younger brother, perhaps?’
‘Younger brother?’
‘Mm.’ Guy was distracted by his work. ‘Albert inherited it all, the farmland, Tyneham House and the houses in and around the village. If there was a brother, he was bound to be younger. If that’s who this man is.’
Melissa looked at the dark hair with curiosity. Guy bristled next to her, shaking his head when she dog-eared the page.
There was nothing else in the rest of that particular book and flicking through the other two she got the feeling they were going to prove fairly useless too. The mysterious man had only been mentioned once and even then it was simply a picture caption. If it was a typo, it was a pretty big one. Albert to Freddie wasn’t an easy leap. If it wasn’t a typo, the fact that so little space was given to him across three local history books suggested Freddie Standish, whoever he was, really wasn’t that important at all.
While Guy continued typing on his laptop Melissa flicked back to the first book and looked at the blurry image again. She had a feeling about him that she just couldn’t shake from her head.
The minutes ticked by and Melissa gave up on squinting at the picture. She gathered the books into a small pile and sat back while Guy closed his laptop and put his paperwork into his bag. He leaned back on the sofa and then shifted his body so he was facing her.
As she turned towards him, strands of hair fell over one of her eyes and Guy reached forward to brush them away, tucking them back behind her ear. Melissa felt hot all of a sudden. She made a little gasp, only slightly audible, as his hand slowly touched her ear and brushed delicately down her neck. He pulled back suddenly and clenched his jaw, glancing around to see if anyone was watching them.
Confusion coursed through Melissa.
‘I’m sorry.’ Guy leaned forward to take a final sip of his coffee and changed the mood between them entirely.
Melissa laughed nervously while a strange veil of panic replaced confusion. ‘Why are you sorry?’
‘I don’t … I mean, we’ve only just met. I’m not a fan of rushing things.’
‘I agree.’ Melissa wondered where this conversation was going. Surely she wasn’t being dumped before anything had actually got off the ground? That would be a new low.
‘I really like you, Melissa.’ He exhaled loudly and ran his hand through his hair. ‘I don’t want to move too quickly and ruin whatever is happening between us.’
Melissa suddenly felt fuzzy. This was a feeling she wasn’t used to. A man liked her enough not to rush into anything. ‘I agree,’ she said again. ‘That sounds like a good plan.’ She wasn’t used to dating gentlemen.
After he’d kissed Melissa goodnight at her door and returned to his own room, Guy leaned against the back of his door and exhaled loudly. He’d resist
ed the overwhelming urge to try to take her to bed. He was a man, after all. And she was gorgeous. He was pleased that she’d agreed they should take things slowly and respected that she hadn’t invited him inside for a drink. He wasn’t sure he’d have been able to resist an actual invite if one had been issued. He’d meant what he said. He did want to take it slowly. He liked Melissa and he wasn’t going to mess it up the way he’d messed his last relationship up by rushing in too quickly and allowing himself to be swept along too fast. That way led to madness. Not this time.
He paced the room, moving towards the window, and stopped to look up at the clear night sky. His mood shifted as he stared outside and he reached for a small bottle of whisky from the mini bar. His favourite brand was there and he smiled, realising his assistant Philippa had probably organised that particular placement for him. What would he do without her to arrange his high-impact work schedule? But while he rejoiced in Philippa organising his work life, he didn’t even want to think about who had managed his personal life for the past decade and how badly that had ended. He ran his hand through his hair and shook his head as he realised what a complete fool he’d been when it came to relationships.
Inside his laptop bag a stack of papers had been silently beckoning him. He’d been putting them off for the best part of a month. Why? He had a vague idea. Perhaps because it wasn’t a decision that relied on facts, figures, statistics, and easily explained historical events.
He rifled through the bag until he found a large brown envelope. He pulled out the documents inside and flicked through where the little neon tags marked where he needed to sign. Without hesitation, Guy unscrewed the lid of his Montblanc pen and signed his name with a flourish. He’d allowed this to fester for far too long.
He sat down in the chair and looked at the last page as the black ink dried. For all the emotions he thought he was going to feel, he didn’t think it would be relief or freedom. But both flowed through him rapidly. A large smile formed on his face as he sealed the envelope and threw it towards the door of the suite as a reminder to post it in the morning. As it landed on the thick carpet, it made a satisfying thud.