‘Hey, what’s going on here?’ Hugh asked, coming over to stand grinning with his arms folded and watch his nephew proudly showing off his new skill. ‘Clever boy, you’re doing well.’ He turned to Brenda with curiosity in his gaze. ‘Have you taught him how to cycle?’
‘I have indeed, because he was bored with being treated as a doll, so why not?’
Hugh laughed out loud, and clapped and cheered as Ross came pedalling towards him with a big grin on his face, then sensibly slowed down and pulled to a halt with only a slight wobble. ‘Well done, lad,’ Hugh said, giving him a pat on the head. ‘You’ll make an excellent cyclist. Have you thanked Brenda for kindly teaching you?’
Jumping off the cycle to lay it carefully down, he ran to give her a big hug. ‘Thank you so much, Bren.’ The feel of the child in her arms made her heart turn over.
‘What a lovely lady you are,’ Hugh said, stroking her tumble of hair away from her flushed cheek. ‘I think we’ll enjoy working together.’
Twenty-Four
Hugh faced Melissa with stubborn resolve. ‘Taking into account the effect of this war, I believe we should be a little more open-minded and accept that what Brenda has to say could well be true.’
‘I can’t understand why you are allowing her to win you over. You’ve been against that chit of a girl from the moment she arrived, an absolutely correct reaction.’
‘Finding the necessary physical evidence in these times is not always possible. But bearing in mind all she has done for us, not least standing in for Prue and working hard in the kitchen, why would I not begin to believe she could be genuine? She also taught your son to cycle, when he grew bored with being treated as a doll by his sisters. She’s a lovely, kind lady.’
Melissa’s grey-green eyes widened with shock. ‘She has no right to teach him anything, or interfere at all in my children’s lives.’
‘I think it’s time you developed a little more tolerance towards her.’
‘How dare you suggest such a thing? She’s a fraudster and a charlatan.’
Coping with his sister’s self-obsessed arrogance was never easy. Melissa did tend to look down on those she considered beneath her, and treat them with total condescension. He may not always be able to control her temper, but Hugh felt determined to be in full command of his own. A bad reaction simply created high levels of stress and tension, which did him no good at all. He did, however, seem to be on the road to improvement.
‘I’m beginning to think that my first reaction to her was entirely wrong,’ he said. ‘Probably because I was in a bad state of mind at the time. She’s proved to be a most caring, lively person and a good friend and companion to Prue. In addition, she’s a hard worker and has come up with some interesting suggestions on how to improve sales at the factory. As a consequence I’ve made an offer for her to join the family business.’
‘Absolutely not! I will never agree to allow that.’
‘I’m afraid it’s not your decision.’
Snorting with fury through her beautiful aquiline nose, she marched over to the sideboard to pour herself a glass of gin and It. ‘That madam is nothing more than a piece of baggage; completely without morals. No doubt she’s offered to hand you favours in return, as she did in the German brothel. That harlot should be sent packing and banished from this house forever.’
Hugh’s eyes darkened. ‘She has offered no such thing, nor have we any proof she did spread her favours in the past. I think you have completely misunderstood what Mama was telling you in that letter. And may I tactfully remind you that this is no longer your home, Melissa. You now live in London with your husband, so it is no business of yours who lives here, let alone what I do in the factory. That is my decision, and despite your accusations, I am coming round to the idea that she could indeed be Jack’s widow.’
Melissa bristled. ‘Are you saying that you prefer to trust that messy little tart rather than me, your own sister?’
‘Let’s say I’m prepared to take the risk.’
‘Damn you, you’ll live to regret it,’ she snarled, and snatching up a vase, smashed it to the floor before marching off.
*
Brenda could hardly believe her good fortune at being invited to occupy Jack’s bedroom, instead of the servant’s quarters in the attic. Unbelievable, although she very much doubted Melissa would approve. It was a lovely blue room on the first floor, quite dark and manly with a mahogany four-poster bed, blue velvet curtains and a beautiful slate fireplace. She felt in her heart that she was honouring his memory by being here. Some of Jack’s suits still hung in the wardrobe, bringing tears to her eyes as she buried her face in the cloth to pick up the faint scent of him. Determined not to dwell upon the fact that he was no longer present in her life, if forever in her heart, Brenda took them out and folded them into a pile for Carter to collect and perhaps give to those young men in need of clothes after this dreadful war. She then unpacked her own few belongings.
His comb and razor still rested on the shelf in the small bathroom next door. Slipping them into a drawer for safe keeping, she stared at herself in the mirror, remembering cleaning this room for him every morning as a servant. Now she had been given the right to occupy it. Wouldn’t this be what Jack would have wanted for her?
Sitting at the desk in the window, she let her gaze wander over the meadows and woodlands surrounding the manor, feeling a tremor of happiness stir within her. Life was improving, and it was vital she keep up her spirits. Finding a stack of paper in the drawer, Brenda wrote a quick letter to Emma, feeling eager to share her good news.
It had been so long since she’d seen her friend, but loved to keep her informed of how things were going, as well as receiving Emma’s own news, if a bit worrying at times. In this letter Brenda explained how the solicitor had refused to make any further enquiries, and that there was no longer any hope of finding the correct paperwork, let alone her son.
‘But I want you to know that things are improving. Having been granted the right to join the family business, which I’m delighted about, I’m working hard to bring about good sales. I do love baking. And I confess I’m beginning to feel more at ease with Hugh now that he’s much more relaxed and friendly towards me. Would you believe he actually kissed me, to celebrate this decision? Unbelievable, and oddly enough, it felt so like Jack. However, my darling husband will always be in my heart, and I’ll never stop searching for dear little Tommy. I just wish I could find out where Adèle is, as she might have the answer. I do hope she is still alive and well. But if so, why haven’t I heard from her? If you can think of any way to find her, do let me know. I’m open to suggestions. I do love receiving your letters and you are such a wise and helpful friend. What’s your latest news from OSE? Hope you are finding some degree of happiness too. I still live in hope.
All my love, Brenda.’
When the letter was written and the tears were wiped from her eyes, Brenda began to make a list of the recipes she intended to try first. And when tiredness overcame her she slipped into Jack’s bed, her heart aching that he wasn’t there beside her. But resolving not to cry, she began to count sheep in her head and soon fell asleep.
She found herself jerked awake by the sound of the bedroom door opening, a flash of fear running through her. It felt as if she were back in Besançon and a guard had entered to drag the women from their palliasses to bully and beat them. Remembering where she actually was, safe in Jack’s bedroom, she flicked on her bedside lamp to stare in shock at Gregory’s slyly grinning face.
Within seconds she’d leapt out of bed, opposite to where he was standing, and grabbing the poker from its stand by the fireplace held it firmly with both hands. ‘Get out! If you lay so much as a finger on me, I’ll call the police.’
Laughing, he came slowly around the foot of the bed to stand before her. ‘You wouldn’t dare. We all know how you spread your favours wide and what a little liar you are, so why would they believe a word you say? The police can be very dismi
ssive of whores.’
Brenda ground her teeth, heart pounding. ‘Not nearly as bad as the Gestapo. Come one step closer and you’ll feel the full weight of this poker, and the courage they created in me.’
She saw doubt creep into his eyes. ‘So you don’t fancy a bit of a frolic?’
‘Never! Certainly not with a bastard like you. Leave now, or I’ll tell Melissa all about what you are suggesting.’
His smile turned into a sneer as he glared at her through narrowed dark eyes. ‘Melissa does as I tell her, as will you one day.’ Then to her great relief he left. Grabbing a chair, she jammed it under the door handle to lock it. Tomorrow she’d ask old Joe to put a bolt on it for her.
*
‘Where have you been?’ Melissa demanded of her husband when he returned to their room.
‘Nowhere of importance,’ he told her, as he climbed into bed beside her.
Not for a moment did she believe him. Had he approached that chit of a girl again, or perhaps the new maid who’d been taken on to help Mrs Harding? Not daring to ask, she stroked his face and kissed him. ‘How lovely to have you here with me and be sharing a bed again,’ she murmured, then slid her hand down to rub a lower part of him.
‘Not tonight, dear. I’m too tired,’ he said, and turning his back to her, mumbled goodnight.
Fury and despair ricocheted through her. No doubt he had just had his way with that harlot. Damnation, why would Gregory not show more interest in her, his own wife? As for that that greedy little madam, she was creating utter mayhem. Not only had Hugh allowed her to join the family business, Melissa had the sneaking feeling that a relationship was growing between them, which really didn’t bear thinking about. In addition, he was now allowing her to live here at Trowbridge Hall, occupying Jack’s room. How dare he do that? Would he next be offering her a share of the family money?
Melissa remembered all too well how she’d greatly resented the fact that Jack had been granted the largest share of her father’s inheritance, simply because he was the eldest and a man. Hugh had been next in line, of course, which was why he was now in charge. But it was entirely unfair the way their father had treated the women of his family. Although she and Prue had been left a fair sum of money each, they were granted no share in the business and certainly not ownership of the house or land. Melissa definitely had no intention of agreeing to that cunning little fraudster taking a share of their inheritance, which could deprive her own children, in particular her lovely daughters, of theirs. Girls had as much right to an inheritance as did boys.
Why didn’t Hugh realise she was playing him along?
How stupid men were. Even her own husband was entirely neglectful, and so dictatorial. Forever expressing anger with her if she didn’t do as he ordered, he rarely stayed home long enough to keep their marriage strong, let alone build a proper relationship with his children. He would constantly go off to some foreign land, staying away for months on end. His family never seemed to register in his mind as being of any great importance. He looked upon them more as a requirement to add to his status, as well as his financial assets. His role as a diplomat was all that truly mattered to him.
And whether he even remained faithful to her on those long trips abroad, Melissa really didn’t care to consider. He could have a mistress in every port, for all she knew.
Life had been so much easier when that chit of a girl had occupied her proper status, working as a servant. She’d interfered far too much in family matters already, and the last thing Melissa needed was for her to become more involved, let alone engage in an affair with her husband.
But how to be rid of her? That was the question.
*
Brenda spent days in the kitchen baking samples of her favourite recipes. She found that she loved rising early, rolling out pastry and beating dough, despite the endless washing up of dirty dishes, long days and short nights, and swollen hands and feet. ‘We’ll start with these classic cakes, and a small Christmas pudding, since the festive season is approaching. If they prove to be successful, then we can increase the range and try one or two more,’ she suggested to Hugh. He readily agreed.
‘Now we need to set about finding a market,’ she eventually announced. And taking her box of samples, went first to Kendal Milne in Manchester.
‘Christmas is coming. How about some Christmas puddings? Do try a taste,’ she said to the buyer, keeping her tone light in a valiant effort not to reveal her desperate need for an order.
‘Hmm, delicious. I’ll take a dozen. See how they go,’ came the reply.
‘Buy two dozen and I’ll give you an extra ten per cent discount.’
‘Right, you’re on.’
She wrote the order in the book, trying not to let her customer see that his was the first. With her confidence boosted, Brenda went on to sell him mince tarts, sponge parkin, Yorkshire spice cake, flapjacks and Eccles cakes. ‘If these prove to be popular, I could bring you more varieties next time,’ she told him.
After that, she went from town to town: Bolton, Blackburn, Burnley, Stockport, and many more all over Lancashire. She even took the train as far as Liverpool, Chester and parts of Yorkshire, paying calls upon Selfridges, Browns and any other likely department store she could find, plus many small cafes and grocer’s shops. She tried every means of persuasion she could think of to win orders: offering samples, giving discounts for bulk purchase, and agreeing to whatever delivery date was required.
Gradually the order book filled up, the ones for Christmas being more important. Her small team settled down to endless baking, and over the first few weeks excellent sales were achieved, particularly for the Christmas puddings and mince tarts.
‘It’s going to work!’ she squealed in delight when she showed Hugh the results.
‘Well done,’ he said. ‘I think we should go out for a meal to celebrate this new phase in the business.’
A wave of delight ran through her. ‘That would be lovely.’ The glint of his white teeth as he smiled with pleasure brought a flush of longing within her. How she longed to trace the outline of his mouth and have him kiss her again, only this time more intensely. Stifling this unexpected reaction to his invitation, she politely agreed a time for them to meet up that evening.
The future was looking rosy at last. Then as she walked through the hall on the way to her room, Brenda found another letter waiting for her from Emma, one that stunned her completely.
*
By early afternoon when the day’s baking was done, having been up from five o’clock working hard, Brenda went to see Prue to discuss what she should wear for this meal out.
‘My clothes are entirely rubbish and I’ve never got around to improving them, due to lack of time and funds,’ she admitted. ‘What do you suggest I do?’
‘Well, I am definitely not short of dresses,’ Prue said, ‘having been blessed with the kind of father who had plenty of money and always expected his daughters to look their best. Let’s explore my wardrobe.’
They spent the next hour doing exactly that, Brenda trying on various frocks, skirts and fancy tops, laughing hilariously when something didn’t suit her. A pile slowly mounted of the garments Prue was happily handing over.
‘You don’t need to actually give them to me,’ Brenda protested. ‘I could just borrow something.’
‘These are clothes I’ve rarely worn in years and no longer need, so why would I not give them to you? You’re my best friend and you’ve helped me, so now it’s my turn to help you. I think you should wear this rose-coloured silk skirt and jacket this evening, as the colour really suits you, and it fits so neatly round your waist. Have a lovely time, darling,’ she said, giving her a warm hug.
‘I do have mixed feelings about it,’ Brenda confessed. ‘As if it’s quite wrong of me to be going out with my brother-in-law. I certainly must not think of it as a date.’
‘Why would you not? It’s good to see a friendship developing between you two at last.’
; ‘Yes, but I’m his brother’s widow, so is it wrong of me to find him quite attractive?’
Prue smiled. ‘Not at all. I think he’s growing rather attracted to you too.’
‘I very much doubt it.’ Brenda felt her heart skitter at the thought.
When Hugh saw her waiting for him in the hall, he let out a low whistle. ‘My word, you look lovely. Absolutely gorgeous and most stylish.’
Brenda flushed with surprise and happiness, pulling a wry face. ‘Thanks to your generous sister.’ Knowing she needed to look her best, she’d pinned her hair up into a French pleat, letting tendrils curl free on to her forehead. Examining herself in the mirror Brenda had felt quite pleased that her skin still held a certain golden quality to it, as if kissed by the sun. But it was other types of kisses that were occupying her mind far too much at the moment. ‘I own little more than the odd scruffy frock and several pairs of overalls, so I really appreciate her help.’
‘As she does yours,’ he said.
His expression was as mysterious as ever, made more so by the narrowing of his grey eyes as he gazed upon her. Sometimes his silences gave her a prickle of disquiet, although that was not what she was feeling right now. But then he could be puzzling, letting loose his emotions but keeping his thoughts very private. As he came a step closer Brenda held her breath: expectant, happy, and smiling up at him. Was this the moment he would kiss her? She could almost sense it, and swayed slightly towards him in anticipation. Life seemed to be improving at last. If she could but persuade him to kiss her again, it would be even better. Bending his arm for her to take, he said, ‘The car is waiting outside with Carson at the wheel. Shall we go?’
A shadow flickered briefly across his face and her heart clenched. Perhaps she was wrong. Would that happen this evening, or not?
Always In My Heart Page 19