by Leah Fleming
‘Not those sorts of secrets, and you can’t go down the aisle to the holy altar in white with that sort of stuff on your conscience.’
‘I wasn’t planning on a white wedding,’ Maddy countered, feeling sick at the emotions being stirred up again.
‘Then you would hurt Plum. She’s been planning your bash for years: the country church, the beautiful gown. It will be a whole pack of lies to live down. Think about it, Maddy. Better to stop things right now.’
‘Oh, Gloria, how will I live without him?’ Maddy sobbed.
‘Like you did before, get on with your life…travel, perhaps go to London? You’ve got your friends there. You’ll be doing the right thing. You wouldn’t want to make him unhappy, out of his depth, ashamed of his lack of education and all that stuff that no one will ever talk about?’
‘You’ve got Ken in your corner, who’ll be in mine if I let him go?’
‘You’ve got plenty of friends, you’ll get over it. Look at my mam–two fellas killed in the war and a few more besides. She survived.’
‘But she let you and Sid down.’
‘Everyone lets someone down sometime. You should know that by now,’ said Gloria, not looking at her.
‘But I love him so much, and Greg’s my friend. He’d understand if I told him.’ Maddy was screaming inside.
‘Can you take that risk? Greg’s a survivor. He’s got a fortune to make, and fast. He’s a simple man who grabs life by the balls. Do you want to see the look of revulsion on his face when you confess your sins to him?’
‘If I turn him down I wouldn’t want him to think he wasn’t good enough for me,’ cried Maddy, weakening to the power of Gloria’s outspokenness. ‘Are you sure I’m doing the right thing?’
‘Trust me.’
Maddy fell into her arms, weeping. ‘What would I do without you, Gloria?’
The answer came swiftly. ‘We’ll allus be forever friends, you and me, come what may. We smile through our tears. Auntie Glory to the rescue once more.’
Maddy couldn’t see those green eyes flash in triumph. Her heart was broken.
Later she sat in the window seat staring out on the Avenue of Tears and the bright flowers dancing in the breeze. This just couldn’t be happening on such a lovely day, surely not, just when she was beginning to feel secure in Greg’s love and their future?
But underneath all their passion were terrible truths lurking untold, stuff she’d hoped to take to her grave, nobody’s business but her own. It wasn’t fair to let Greg think she was pure and innocent. Gloria was right: he deserved better.
Easter lay in ruins. She would have to pretend that her world hadn’t crashed over her head. There was no escape, no work to run to. She was going to have to put on the biggest act of her life and it was killing her to think about it. In letting go one of the loveliest things to have happened to her for years, part of her very self would be destroyed. How would she tell Greg to walk away?
Gloria had sown terrible seeds of doubt about that fateful night. Had she seen Maddy do something neglectful? Hard as she strained, she couldn’t recall anything other than fear and pain, blood and tears. Could any of her observations be true? If they were, then she must not risk exposure. She didn’t deserve any happiness, if that was the case, and losing Greg must be her punishment.
Gloria couldn’t stop shaking at what she had just done to her friend. She saw the joy die in Maddy’s grey eyes as her terrible arguments sunk in at last. She was surprised how easily Maddy caved in, quicker than she would have done if the roles were reversed. She’d watched her friend’s confidence crumble at the suggestion she had allowed the baby to die of neglect in not calling the doctor.
That was a terrible thing to suggest, and the weight of her accusation hung on her neck like a yoke, like carrying buckets of coal around her heart. How could she have done this? The words just sprung out of her mouth fully formed, tipping the balance in her favour. Maddy had wilted under them and retreated.
As Gloria walked down the avenue to have a quiet smoke and calm herself, she felt the branches arching over in the wind, pointing fingers at her. The wind rattled up the drive making her shiver. What was said was said, no turning back now, but in her heart she felt the first stirrings of guilt and fear. Somewhere, sometime, she would have to pay for what she had just done.
For once the Yorkshire weather perked up into sunshine and showers. Greg drove over Blubberhouses Moor from Harrogate to Skipton with the hood down on his new roadster. He couldn’t wait to show it off to Maddy and the gang. He drove up through Skipton High Street, admiring the church and the castle gate, stopping off to find some chocolate eggs with his coupons.
He was back home in the Dales, home among familiar streets and faces he recognised in shops, that familiar accent. He stopped off for a pint in The Crown, where the barman recognised him: ‘Now, then, young Greg. How do?’
He wore a grin from ear to ear in anticipation of his birthday bash. In the glove compartment was a very special package he’d picked up from Fattorinis, the jewellers, only that morning; an antique engagement ring in its brown box with a cream satin lining. He was the happiest man in Yorkshire–two days off and the most beautiful girl in the world waiting for him. How could he have been so lucky? Everything was going right for once.
He’d just won a contract to build offices on a spanking new commercial estate. There was money in Harrogate. It would be a good place to set up home. Maddy could do some work in Leeds if she wished. He was just bursting with news. Each bend in the road brought him nearer to his dreams coming true.
It was Gloria who came running down the steps to give him a hug. She smelled of summer roses. ‘Lovely to see you!’
‘Where’s Maddy?’ She was always his first thought on seeing Brooklyn.
‘She’s out riding, been in a funny mood all day…women’s stuff, I expect.’ Gloria tapped her nose with her finger and winked. ‘She can be a moody cow, sometimes.’
‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ Greg replied, striding up the steps, ignoring her, making for the kitchen where Plum looked up. He threw his cap round the door.
‘Greg, how lovely! Sit down, the kettle’s on. You’re on time.’ She gave him a floury handshake. ‘Good journey?’
‘Bumper to bumper through Skipton as usual. So many cars on the road, business must be booming at long last.’
‘I hope so. We’re full for Easter. I think folks just like to get some fresh air in their lungs over the season…Can’t you just smell the spring?’
All he could smell was Gloria’s overwhelming perfume. It made him want to sneeze but he sat down.
‘Everything OK? Maddy busy? She didn’t ring last night,’ he said.
‘Oh, she’s fine, just a little tired. I told her to take Monty out for a canter. It clears the head. She won’t be long.’
He was half watching the door for what seemed hours, for the sound of the hoofs in the courtyard. When she came in she was flushed and dishevelled.
‘Hi, Greg! Must have a bath, won’t be long.’ But she was ages upstairs titivating herself, and when she came down, she was in a smart suit and hat.
‘Going somewhere special?’ He couldn’t resist saying, she looked so haughty.
‘Just some last-minute shopping.’
‘I’ll drive you down.’
‘I can walk, thank you. Won’t be long. Gloria will look after you,’ she smiled, and left. They all sat in silence, not knowing what to say.
‘Told you she could be moody, Greg,’ whispered Gloria. ‘Come on, let’s get you unpacked and sorted. You can give me a lift if you like.’
And that was the pattern of the next day. Maddy went to church to do the Easter flowers, Greg helped old Mr Hill in the garden. They met up for evening dinner with the guests and still nothing was said about their engagement. He was puzzled.
On Easter Sunday morning, it was the tradition for everyone to go to church, but if Greg was looking forward to walking there with Maddy he wa
s soon disappointed.
‘Happy Birthday!’ She pecked him on the cheek. ‘Must dash…I’m helping the children make the Easter garden display. See you later.’ With that she pedalled off on her pushbike out of sight.
He had to make do with Plum and Gloria for company as they joined the queue outside the porch, admiring the floral displays. This was all women’s stuff, but he sat politely through the communion service, the Easter hymns, the procession of children with their Pace eggs and recalled how once he’d done the same thing all those years ago but he’d been hungry, and snaffled the hard-boiled egg, which was rock hard and tasted disgusting. He’d hated them ever since but in Germany they’d been glad to boil any egg they found when they were foraging for meals.
How things had changed. Everyone was sporting something new to wear–new hats and dresses, smart ties–rationing or not. There was always some trimming to make a hat look newer than it was. It was the tradition on Easter Day to celebrate with new outfits.
They were making a special birthday luncheon for Greg. Gloria had baked a cake and there were wrapped parcels waiting in the drawing room for him to enjoy. It was going to be a memorable day: the day when he and Maddy announced their engagement to the world, but first he had to speak to Mrs Plum. It was only polite to inform her first.
Maddy stared at the stained-glass window behind the altar, trying not to cry. This was going to be such a lovely weekend and she was ruining every hour of Greg’s visit. How could she pray and take the sacraments when she was deliberately hurting the one she loved by avoiding being alone with him, not returning his loving glances, making excuses to get out of his reach. She could see the bewildered look on his face as she flitted around the house, never sitting still, pretending to be Miss Oh-so-busy and leaving him to make polite chatter to their holiday guests.
Even now she could feel his eyes boring into the back of her straw hat, the pretty one she’d bought especially for Easter. It was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do in her life. Lying awake, pacing the floor, going over all Gloria’s arguments, she knew she must let him go but was this all a ploy for Gloria to have Greg for herself? Then she recoiled from such a mean thought. Gloria looked after number one, always had and always would. She was a survivor but she wasn’t a thief or cruel.
She was right in telling her they’d risked danger in not sending for the doctor on that fateful night. Perhaps he could have done something? They’d never know now.
Greg deserved someone better than her. She’d hoped by keeping their lovemaking until they were married she would somehow write off the debt she owed to fortune in saving her from public disgrace. Gloria was right again. If they had a child together, a doctor would know it was not her first. How would she explain that away if there were complications? Lies and more lies wouldn’t do then.
Oh God, forgive my weakness. Help me to do the right thing, give me the strength to do what is honorable in Thy sight. Temper the wind to the shorn lamb.
Maddy was sitting with the Sunday school lines, looking pretty in her straw hat with ribbon twisted round it. Greg kept thinking of the moment when he walked her down the aisle, the organ playing something stirring and the sun shining through the stained glass, catching sunbeams on her veil. She would look so beautiful. He could feel himself choking with emotion.
The vicar’s sermon wasn’t bad. It was about new life and renewal, and the joy of the Resurrection to the friends of Jesus who thought he was dead. Greg didn’t know what to make of all that, but spring was such a relief after winter, and the thought of beginning a new life with Maddy after years of war was wonderful.
After the service everyone went up to Pie Crust Hill and rolled the coloured eggs down the slope in time-honoured fashion. The day had pulled out into a proper dazzler–blue skies, light fluffy clouds, and everywhere the green of hills and leaves that only spring could provide. Then it was home to luncheon at the Brooklyn and the smell of roasting lamb.
First there was sherry in the drawing room and he opened all his gifts with genuine surprise. Birthdays had never been much of an occasion before–a swift half in some public house with Charlie. He was twenty-two years old and sometimes he felt going on fifty. The war had done that to all his generation, he thought: made them old before their time, guilty for being alive when so many of his friends had not made it through to the end.
He fingered the leather map case and the jumper from Maddy, the bottle of strong aftershaving lotion from Gloria. Plum had found some suede leather driving gloves. It was wonderful to be so honoured.
‘When shall we tell them?’ he whispered to Maddy as they were going into the dining room.
‘Tell them what?’ she said, distracted by finding everyone a seat.
‘You know, about us,’ he whispered.
‘Not now, Greg.’ Maddy coughed to hide her words. ‘We need to talk about it first.’
‘What is there to talk about? Why are you avoiding me?’
‘I’m not,’ she snapped. ‘Shush, Plum’s going to give you a toast.’
‘I can reply then,’ he smiled. He wanted to tell the world about their news.
‘You’ll do no such thing, not before we’ve had a talk in private.’
‘Chance’d be a fine thing. We’ve not had two minutes alone since I arrived.’
‘I’ll speak to you later,’ she whispered.
‘Is that a promise?’ he laughed.
Maddy ignored him and reached for her glass. ‘Happy Birthday, Greg!’ she smiled with her lips but not with her eyes. Something was wrong.
Gloria kept trying to fill the gaps in the conversation at the dinner table they were sharing with two couples and pair of hiking lady guests. It was very stilted, the usual guff about the weather and the best footpaths and how nice the local lamb tasted. Greg couldn’t wait to leave the table and get Maddy on his own but when they all cleared away the plates into the kitchen, suddenly Maddy had disappeared again. Her vanishing act was beginning to annoy him.
When he could stand it no longer, Greg burst into the stable where Maddy was giving Monty his rub down. It was time to say his piece.
‘What have I done wrong? You’ve hardly said a word in my direction since I arrived.’
‘Nothing, Greg. I’m tired. I just need to be alone for a bit.’
‘Well, you’ve made that quite plain. What’s biting you? You can tell your uncle Greg,’ he smiled, trying to coax her out of this strange mood.
‘No, I can’t. I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.’
‘Then let me tell you all my good news. I’ve got a big contract in Harrogate. We can set the date now. I can support the two of us…Isn’t that wonderful?’ He waited for her to hug him but she turned her back on him.
‘I’m very pleased for you,’ she said, and carried on rubbing Monty down.
‘Don’t I get a kiss?’
‘No, but I said I was pleased for you.’
‘Have you got a date in mind, yet? Midsummer would be romantic,’ he continued.
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’
There was a silence as he took in her words.
‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?’ he tried again.
‘It’s too soon, Greg. We don’t really know each other. There are things we need—’
‘What things?’ he interrupted. ‘I told you all about Germany and stuff. You know my views on things. The past is the past. We’ve got such a future. If it’s your job, you can carry on as long as you like. Let’s make it Christmas, then,’ he offered.
‘It’s just…’ she turned away so he couldn’t see her face, ‘…I can’t marry you…I never could. We’re not suited.’
Greg felt a stab in his gut at her words. ‘I don’t believe you. We’ve had such fun these last few months.’
‘Yes, we have, and fun is all it’s been for me. I’m not ready to settle down. I’ve got a chance to work down in London and, who knows, maybe Paris. I’m not ready for a house and children yet.
I want to make a success of my career before I’m too old. You do understand, I can’t be held back.’
Greg stood rigid with shock. How could she say all this stuff and not look him in the eye? ‘Yes of course, I understand now. You’d not want to be held back by a working man who came from an orphanage and whose accent is rough. I wouldn’t fit in with your London pals.’ The shock and disappointment spilled out of his mouth, bitter to the taste.
‘You’ve got it wrong, Greg, completely wrong. It’s not that at all…Oh, I wish I could explain but it won’t work out. I know it now. I tried but, believe me, I’m letting you off the hook. You’ll thank me later…I’m not as straightforward as you’d like to think.’
‘Then tell me,’ he pleaded. ‘What’s so hard that I’d not understand–or am I being gently dumped for one of Bella’s cronies?’
‘Of course not. There’s only ever been you,’ she pleaded, and there were tears in her eyes. ‘But I can’t marry you, I’m sorry…Just leave it at that, please.’
‘No, I won’t. I thought you felt as I did. Is it that business of the hotel? I thought we’d got over my mistake? Look, I can wait. I promise I won’t rush you into anything.’
‘Stop it, please,’ she snapped. ‘Leave me alone. We’re just not suited. Leave it there. Don’t go on. I’ll not change my mind. Please, go.’
Maddy’s dark grey eyes blinked back tears. She looked down as if she was ashamed. He knew she was lying but there was no give in her stance.
His head was spinning with this unexpected rejection. All he wanted to do now was to jump into the MG and head for the nearest pub to drown his sorrows until he couldn’t feel a thing. What a bloody Happy Birthday!
‘Well, a gentleman knows when he’s not wanted, I’ll take my leave,’ he said with a mocking bow. ‘Give my apologies to Mrs Plum but I’m not stopping where I’m not wanted. You know where to find me if you need me, if you change your mind.’
He left her to her grooming and didn’t hear her agonised wails as he revved up his car. How could he stay now? He roared down the avenue, fumes smoking behind his retreat. The package was still unopened in the glove compartment. He didn’t care if he never saw it again.