by Nancy Revell
Again, Pearl looked around her and everything appeared just as she had left it before she had fallen into bed that night.
But still she knew everything was not as it had been when she went to bed.
She stood up and had to sit back down for a moment.
Again, she attempted to stand up. This time she succeeded and managed to take two steps to the dressing table, where she picked up her small hand mirror.
She looked at her reflection.
Her neck was bright red and starting to bruise. She put the mirror to her back and saw more patches of purpling skin.
She put the mirror down, and cautiously pulled up her nightie. In the flickering candlelight Pearl stared down at the bloodied and bruised markings. She stood in the semi-darkness, statuesque, clutching her nightie, looking at her body, or rather a body – one that no longer felt like her own.
She stayed like that for what felt like a long time. Her mind whirring, her eyes darting about her as if to check that he was not still in the room. Stupid, she knew, as there was barely enough room to swing a cat, never mind hide, yet still the fear gained momentum. She dropped down on all fours and looked under the bed. Nothing. She pushed herself back up onto her haunches and stayed crouched down on the floor, listening, terrified that he might return.
The house was quiet. When she had fallen asleep last night it had been full of life and laughter. She’d heard the music and had thought it sounded nice. Now the quietness felt deathly; even the old copper pipes weren’t making their usual lament.
It took Pearl ten minutes to clean herself up, put on her clothes, and stuff what few belongings she had into her big cloth bag. She left the maid’s outfit that Henrietta had made such a show of giving her. She did not want to take anything from this place.
Not one single reminder.
And then she left.
As Pearl stole out the tradesmen’s entrance, quietly tiptoeing down the gravel path by the side of the house, her heart in her mouth, her head thumping, petrified that the master would come and drag her back in, she was not to know that she had, in fact, left with something from that godforsaken house – and that ‘something’ would be a constant reminder of the horror, the violence and the injustice of what had happened to her that night.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Thursday 30 April
Since he had seen Helen last – or rather since he had cancelled his date with her over a week ago – Theo had thought very carefully about what he knew he had to do and where would be best to do it. He had shied away from asking Helen to come to his flat for two reasons. First and foremost, he was worried she might cause a scene and alert the neighbours, who might even come knocking.
The second reason was that his resolve, and moreover his willpower, might fail him, so that on seeing her he might well end up trying to take her to bed one last time. And if he did that, he really would be skating on thin ice. He had bumped into Dr Parker the other day in the staffroom at the hospital, now a regular occurrence since he had requested a permanent transfer from the Royal to the Ryhope, and ‘young John’, as everyone seemed to call him, had started chatting about Helen. It could have been a case of paranoia, but there was something in his tone that suggested he knew more than he was letting on. Either way it had panicked Theo a little and strengthened his resolve to end his fling with Helen once and for all.
When he had rung Helen at work, he had made out he was taking her to watch the film they were meant to see on their last aborted date. In reality, when they met up he was going to suggest they go for a walk instead, and then he’d tell her. He wasn’t looking forward to the inevitable flak he’d get afterwards, though. He knew he had slipped up with Helen. He should have simply stuck with the married Marions of this world; he’d known from the off that Helen was high-risk. He had seen it the first night he’d set eyes on her, the way she had clearly had the goo-goo eyes for Matthew, and then later on that evening when he had found her outside that grotty pub down from the museum, dithering whether or not to go in. She was not your average young woman. But perhaps that had also been the draw – it had been risky and therefore more exciting.
Helen had been too much of a temptation. She had got his race pulsing. His need for a new high had won over the possible pitfalls, and he had revelled in the adrenaline buzz of seducing and then bedding this beautiful, intelligent and very sexy woman. A woman whom most men would give anything just to date, never mind sleep with. He had initially told himself to walk away when he realised that Helen was still a virgin – he had been surprised to find that behind that magnificent bosom, swaying hips and veneer of confidence, there was, in fact, a naïve young girl.
When she had come back to his flat for the first time and he’d realised she had barely even been kissed before, he knew the sensible option would be to end it there and then. But he hadn’t. The temptation had been too great. He had wanted and desired Helen. And he’d had her.
He loved his wife and he enjoyed making love to her, but it was not the same as the passion he felt when he slept with other women, and certainly nowhere near the heights of passion he’d experienced with Helen. But now his hourglass was just about empty; his time with Helen had come to an end.
However, this was not going to be easy, and he had not reckoned on her having such a powerful and influential family. Nor had he banked on her determination to live a picture-perfect married life in Oxford.
As he splashed his face with cold water and put a comb through his hair, he looked at his reflection in the mirror and saw a worried man looking back at him.
It was time to pay the piper.
Helen put on a thick layer of red lipstick, and then looked at herself in her full-length mirror. Pleased with her reflection, she made her way down the stairs and out of the house, which was, as usual, deathly quiet.
As she stepped out into the fresh air she felt the evening sun on her face and felt happy. Or at least happier than she had been this past week while she had waited for Theo’s phone call. This had been the longest she had gone without meeting up with Theo. Perhaps it was because of this that doubts had started to creep into her head. Worries that he might be losing interest in her. She’d had to stop herself from picking up the phone at work, dialling the number for the Ryhope and asking for a message to be relayed to him. That would have smacked of desperation.
Her mother had told her that she was arranging a dinner party in Theo’s honour next week and that this time there were to be no excuses. There had been two occasions lately when it had been arranged for Helen and Theo to go to the Grand and have a drink with Miriam, who was still insisting on meeting Theo before her grandfather. ‘I am your mother!’ she had declared. ‘Your grandfather will just have to wait his turn.’ But both times Theo had apologised profusely when he had met Helen, telling her about the terrible traumas he had witnessed that day in theatre and how he was in no fit state to make polite small talk. Helen had gone on to the Grand alone to tell her mother, who had not been at all impressed.
The dinner party was going to be Theo’s introduction to the family. It might even precipitate a proposal from Theo. These days, dating for nearly four months was a long courtship and weddings were often taking place within just weeks of a couple going on their first date.
Getting on the tram that ran the stretch of the coastal road as far as Seaburn, Helen paid her fare and climbed the iron spiral stairs to the top deck. She had developed a love of riding on the trams since being forced to travel with the hoi polloi, especially now they were heading towards summer and the chewing winds from the North Sea, although still pretty constant, were not as bitingly cold.
As the tram trundled down Dame Dorothy Street, Helen looked across at Thompson’s. She had almost burst with pride today at work when Harold had come to see her to tell her that they were officially the second-busiest yard, behind Doxford’s, and that if they kept going the way they were they’d be looking at breaking a thirty-six-year-old production record.
At least, Helen thought, I will leave the yard on a high when the time comes to move to Oxford. After Theo’s proposal, her next aim was to get him to apply for a transfer back down south. She was sure they were just as much in need of surgeons in Oxford as they were up here. And if he couldn’t make it happen, she was sure her grandfather would be able to pull a few strings.
Stepping off the tram in Fawcett Street, Helen cut through the town centre. She felt a little nervous that she might bump into Gloria and Hope again, but reckoned that if she did, Gloria had got the message and would simply pretend she had not seen her. Still, it would be better not to see her and Hope, full stop. It would only dampen her mood and she wanted tonight to go smoothly, especially as she had to break it to Theo that the dinner-party date had been set and he had to be there, come hell or high water.
Hurrying up Blandford Street, she admired her reflection in the shop windows before turning right onto Crowtree Road. As she did so, she spotted Theo almost immediately, pacing up and down in front of the main foyer.
‘Hello, gorgeous.’ Theo walked towards Helen, taking her arm and directing her away from the theatre.
‘Darling,’ Helen said, looking back over her shoulder at the entrance, now partially hidden by the congregation of cinema-goers. ‘It’s lovely to see you, but I thought we were going to the flicks?’ She stared at Theo’s face and saw that it looked unusually serious. ‘Dear me! Why the stony face?’ She let out a tinkle of laughter.
‘Where are you taking me, Theo?’ As she spoke, Helen found herself being practically marched back down Blandford Street. ‘I can only go so fast in these heels!’ she tried to joke.
As they turned right down Waterloo Place and then left into Holmeside, Helen saw the museum and then the penny dropped. Theo was taking her back to the place he had first set eyes on her. The evening, he had told her, that he had fallen for her ‘hook, line and sinker’. She was so silly! The reason for the sombre look was actually that he was nervous. He was going to get down on bended knee and propose to her. Obviously he couldn’t do it in the back row of the theatre – which meant he must be taking her somewhere special.
‘Let me guess,’ Helen purred. ‘You’re taking me to the museum?’
Theo looked at Helen as though he had no idea what she was talking about.
‘I’m guessing it’s open late tonight. Some exhibition on?’ Helen let Theo take the lead as they crossed over the road.
Theo finally spoke. ‘Actually, we’re going for a walk in the park.’
Helen couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. She had loved the Winter Gardens and Mowbray Park as a child, but they were looking a bit sorry for themselves as of late, their mix of landscaped and natural beauty pockmarked by a recent smattering of incendiary devices.
Crossing over the busy Burdon Road, Theo took Helen’s arm and guided her through the side entrance.
‘Helen, I need to say something to you,’ Theo said, finally stopping as they reached the edge of the large man-made lake. It passed through Helen’s mind that there could have been more romantic spots for a proposal, but that didn’t matter. Theo was finally going to ask for her hand in marriage.
‘Yes, Theo?’ Helen asked, coyly. ‘What did you want to say?’
‘It’s rather difficult,’ he said, taking hold of Helen’s hand and then dropping it.
Helen took hold of his hand. He obviously needed a little help.
‘I’m so sorry, Helen.’ Theo looked at Helen through the same puppy-dog eyes he usually tried to seduce her with, but this time he was hoping they would bring him clemency.
Now it was Helen’s turn to look serious.
Proposals did not start with an apology.
‘Sorry?’ Helen’s voice was as sober as her look.
‘Yes, I am sorry, truly sorry.’ Theo paused. He had been practising this speech for the past hour and knew it was important to give Helen a chance to absorb what he was telling her.
‘I’m afraid I have misled you rather terribly … I have been what they call in the films a “cad” … A number-one, prize cad, in fact … But it was not through any kind of maliciousness that I have found myself acting in such a way, but because I did fall for you – like I have told you before, I fell for you truly, madly and deeply.’
Helen was now staring at Theo, failing to take in what he was saying.
‘But I’m afraid I can’t be with you. Not now. Not ever.’ Another pause. Helen looked stunned. Speechless.
‘You see, when I left Oxford last year, I also left behind a sweetheart. Someone I’ve known most of my life, and who I have been with since we were little more than youngsters.’
‘Sorry?’ Helen couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. ‘You’ve what? You’ve got someone else?’ Helen’s face had flushed red. Her chest was also falling and rising and she could feel herself starting to hyperventilate.
‘I’m so, so sorry, Helen, I know I should have told you from the off … What I have done is inexcusable …’ Theo felt her let go of his hand. He looked around and saw a bench nearby. ‘Helen, sit down, please?’
In a daze, Helen turned and walked over to the park bench and sat down. Theo perched on the edge, his hands clasped in front of him – inwardly praying this was not the calm before the storm. He had seen it before – shock followed by a huge eruption of fireworks. And unlike normal fireworks, these were not a pretty sight.
‘I must stress that this was in no way intentional,’ Theodore continued. ‘I have never been unfaithful before. Never. But then I saw you, and you took my breath away … And it all seemed so unreal … Being here. So far away from home … doing the job I do … all those poor souls whose bodies and limbs have been scarred, mutilated, irreparably damaged.’
Theo stopped speaking. This was the part of his speech he wanted Helen to really listen to. So that she would see him as a worn-out, psychologically marred surgeon who was only here to save lives and had strayed from the path of good just this once. So that the life-saving work he did would go some way to helping her to forgive him this indiscretion.
‘These are such strange times.’ Theo took Helen’s hand, but she instantly pulled it away. This was not a good sign. Theo braced himself for a potential explosion.
‘I got lost,’ he continued, hoping he might still be able to forestall the detonation. ‘I got lost in you. You are the most amazing, beautiful, intelligent woman I have ever met.’
Helen’s mind was working at a rapid rate, trying to adjust to the gargantuan reversal in which the complete opposite of what she had thought was taking place was actually happening. Her world had just been turned upside down. He was breaking up with her!
And not only was he dumping her – he had another love!
His words churned around in her head.
She had been deceived.
Lied to.
Cheated on.
As Helen sat there, an icy calm seemed to wash over her. A strange kind of disjointed reality that made her feel as though she was watching herself sitting on the bench, looking at Theo clenching and unclenching his hands, his face pleading and doleful. Helen’s head shifted ever so slightly, her glistening emerald eyes bore into his and she heard herself speak – her voice low and calm, and a little unnerving.
‘If that’s the case, Theo, if you “got lost” in me, if you fell “truly, madly and deeply” in love with me, then why aren’t you having this conversation with your Oxford sweetheart? Telling her that you no longer want her, but me?’ Helen raised her eyebrows questioningly before continuing in the same cool and composed manner.
‘If you are offered a choice of caviar or cod’s roe, you don’t opt for the roe, do you? Or do you, Theo?’ Helen cocked her head to the side, demanding an answer.
‘If I am more “amazing”, more “beautiful” and more “intelligent”, then why are we sat here now, having this tête-à-tête?’ As Helen spoke she could feel the anger simmering under the surface.
How dare he d
o this? How dare he lie to her?
All this time he had another lover!
Worst of all, he was choosing the other lover over her!
When he still didn’t speak, Helen continued. ‘If you really meant what you said, and you really did have all these wonderful feelings for me, then why don’t you tell your Oxford sweetheart that you’ve met someone you love more?’
Theo again tried to hold Helen’s hand, and again failed to do so, before finally he spoke.
‘Because, Helen, my darling, I know I would never be enough for you … You might think I am now, but I know you would soon get bored … Someone better than me would come along and then you would be stuck in a loveless marriage, resenting me and wishing you had played the field more. Found someone more your equal.’
This was the second stage of Theo’s planned speech. The part where he convinced Helen that he was actually doing her a favour by ending their courtship.
‘You’re wrong.’
Helen’s voice had softened and Theo sensed a minor triumph. He might stop the detonation yet.
‘I think we could be perfect together.’ All of a sudden Helen saw the images she had played over in her head again and again every night to help her sleep. ‘We could have a lovely marriage, a wonderful house, a family, in Oxford—’
‘But that’s just the point,’ Theo interrupted, ‘you might like it down in Oxford at first, but you would miss your home town, I know you would. You might think you’d like it amongst the “dreaming spires” you keep describing, but it’s different down south, the people are different. You’d grow to hate it.’ Theo took a deep breath.
‘But most of all, you love it here. That’s as plain as day. You love your shipyards. You’d be lost without them.’ These were the only true words Theo had spoken in all the time he had been with Helen. They also heralded the moment when he unwittingly pulled the pin out of the grenade he was holding.
‘How dare you tell me what I would and would not feel!’ Helen stood up so that she was glaring down at him.