Too Close to the Sun

by Jess Foley

  As she pondered on his request she thought several times that she might just ignore his letter, simply not respond at all. But he had written in such a heartfelt-sounding tone that such a notion could not sustain for long in her mind. She knew that, if it were at all possible, she would have to see him. But there, she could not think how it could happen. And then her aunt was saying to her, ‘My dear, when you go to Redbury on Wednesday for your fitting, shall you need me along? My arthritis is giving me trouble again, and I’m sure you can do without me, my dear.’ And of course Grace said yes, that she would happily go alone. After all, it was just for the final fitting and to bring back the dress.

  And then, before the idea had had a chance to grow cool in her brain she had written a short letter to Kester saying that she must be in Redbury on Wednesday, and that if he was free on that day she could meet him at 11.30 in the foyer of the Royale Hotel. She chose this meeting point as it was fairly close to the draper’s that was supplying her wedding dress. As soon as the letter was finished and sealed, she posted it off.

  On Wednesday morning Grace set off to catch the train, arriving at Seager’s, the draper’s, well before eleven.

  Trying on the dress once more, it was decided that one single further minor modification was required, which could be done during the next hour. So, saying that she would return later, Grace left the seamstress to her work and went back out into the city streets.

  She reached the hotel before 11.30, and found Kester waiting for her when she entered the foyer. Watching for her, he saw her at once and came towards her with hand outstretched. Immediately her heart began thumping in her breast; all sense of ease that she had been feeling swiftly gone. That she should see him again, after all this time …

  ‘Grace …’ He took her hand in his, warmly, briefly pressed it. ‘Oh, Grace, how are you?’

  Tentatively she shook hands with him, sensing the familiar feel of her hand in his. And then he was releasing her. ‘I’m very well,’ she said. ‘And how are you?’ She could not bring herself to speak his name. She felt awkward, so ill at ease.

  ‘I’m well, I’m well,’ he said. ‘And Sophie also. And how is Billy?’

  ‘He’s very well too, and getting on at school.’

  ‘He’ll have grown so much since I last saw him.’

  ‘Oh, yes, indeed. He grows apace.’ A pause while Grace sought for something to say, then she said, ‘Your letter came from an address in Redbury.’

  ‘Yes, that’s where we’re living now. But I’m hoping that we can return to Birchwood before too long. I don’t think that would embarrass you now, would it?’

  ‘No – not at all.’

  A little silence fell between them, then he said, ‘Shall we have some tea or coffee or something?’ Briefly he glanced around them. ‘We could have some here or find somewhere else.’

  ‘Yes, let’s go somewhere else …’

  ‘As you wish.’

  They went outside together and turned onto the main street, walking along until they came to the sign of a teashop hanging over a doorway. ‘Will this do?’ he said.

  ‘Oh, indeed.’

  He opened the door to the teashop and Grace preceded him into the interior where they were shown to a small round table in a more shaded area towards the rear.

  After a brief consultation with Grace, Kester asked the waitress to bring them some tea.

  ‘So,’ he said when the waitress had left with their order, ‘what brings you to Redbury today – and on your own? You are on your own, aren’t you?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ She took off her gloves. ‘I’m just here to – to do a little shopping.’

  He smiled. ‘It must be a special kind of shopping to bring you all this way. Though going by the look of you, you haven’t done it yet.’

  ‘No.’ She spread her empty hands. ‘I have to go back to the draper’s in an hour.’

  ‘Ah.’ He nodded. A brief silence fell between them, and Grace became aware of the other voices in the room as they chattered over their teacups and pastries. Why on earth was she here? she asked herself. She had come to accept the reality of her decision to marry, but here was Kester, whose very presence jeopardized her peace of mind, and undermined her confidence in the choice she had made. How could he do such a thing? Why could he not simply stay out of her life? He could in no way bring her happiness – no happiness at all could come out of their relationship – whatever that relationship might be.

  ‘Is Sophie enjoying her school?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, she is. Very much. Though she’s a day pupil, so she’s not away from the house for so long. I don’t think I could bear it for her to go away as a boarder.’

  ‘I can understand that.’

  The silence fell between them again. There were many questions that Grace would like to have asked, but she could not. After a moment Kester said:

  ‘I heard that Mrs Spencer died.’

  ‘Yes, that’s correct.’

  ‘Very sad. She was an extremely nice woman.’ He paused. ‘What did she die of?’

  Grace hesitated, then said, ‘The doctor said it was pneumonia – which started as influenza.’

  He shook his head. ‘How very sad. I only met her a couple of times, but I did like her so.’

  ‘She was a fine woman. And she was so kind to my brother. We owe her a great deal.’

  ‘Poor Spencer – he must miss her very much.’

  Grace said nothing.

  ‘So, what are you doing now?’ Kester said. ‘Are you and Billy still staying at Asterleigh? Presumably not – as you were employed by Mrs Spencer …’

  ‘I’ve been teaching in Little Berron,’ she said. ‘The two children of a solicitor. But still staying at Asterleigh. Billy too. It’s good for him – having a sense of security. He’s so used to it now.’

  The waitress brought the tea to them, set it out on the table and went away again.

  ‘Would you like to pour?’ Kester asked. Grace silently did so. Kester slowly stirred his cup and said, lifting his gaze to Grace:

  ‘I hurt you, Grace. I’m so sorry.’

  Avoiding his eyes, she lowered her glance to her cup. ‘Well – that’s in the past now.’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘We get over things.’

  ‘I’m not sure I like hearing that.’ A pause. ‘Do you mean it?’

  ‘Oh, Kester,’ she shook her head distractedly, ‘ – I’m not sure I know what I mean.’

  A long pause in the conversation. Grace self-consciously sipped her tea, while Kester stirred his again.

  ‘I owed you explanations,’ he said after a few moments.

  ‘No. No, it’s all right. It’s in the past.’

  Abruptly he reached across the table and briefly touched her hand. ‘Don’t. Please don’t say that.’

  ‘It is, Kester. You know it is.’

  ‘Grace –’

  ‘We can’t go back.’

  He picked up his cup, then immediately set it down again in the saucer and pushed it away from him. ‘I don’t want this,’ he said. Looking up, looking directly into her eyes, he added, ‘I have to talk to you.’

  She did not know how to respond. There was such passion in his eyes.

  ‘I have to, Grace,’ he said. ‘I must.’

  After a second or two she said carefully, ‘What is it you want to say?’

  ‘Not here. We can’t talk here.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘Can we go outside? Please – I have to talk to you.’

  Only a moment of deliberation, then she nodded and began to put on her gloves. ‘Yes, of course.’

  He stood up, took some coins from his pocket and placed them on the table near his cup and saucer. ‘Shall we go?’

  ‘I don’t have that long,’ Grace said as they went outside in the air. ‘I have to get back to the draper’s.’

  ‘It won’t take that long – what I have to tell you. But it has to be said.’

  With him taking th
e lead, they walked together along the main street. There was a little garden over to the side, he said, where they could sit and talk in some privacy.

  A turning into another street, and then there before them was the entrance to the public park, and they entered it and moved along a pathway until they came to a bench. Here they sat down. Around them people strolled, lovers and old people, while children and dogs scampered through the spring grass. Grace thought of those earlier times, an earlier spring, when she and Kester had walked together. They had both been happier then. At least she had; she could no longer pretend to know how he thought or felt about anything.

  ‘I can’t say here long,’ she said. ‘I shall have to go soon.’

  ‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘I have some things I must say to you. They have to be said.’

  She waited, their little silence touched by the squeals and shouts of the playing children.

  ‘I love you, Grace,’ he said after a moment.

  ‘No, Kester, please. You mustn’t say such things.’ She clutched at her bag, preparing to rise and move, but he put out his hand and held her arm.

  ‘You must hear me,’ he said.

  She stayed, but she remained tense, ready to move away.

  ‘Whatever else you believe, please believe that,’ he said.

  She made no sign that she accepted his words or even that she had heard them spoken.

  ‘Now,’ he said, and took a deep breath, ‘I’m going to tell you something. It is something I should have told you before. And I would like to say that what I tell you must go no further. You’ll understand why.’

  She nodded. ‘Very well.’

  ‘I never set out to lie to you,’ he said. ‘But I came to feel so deeply for you. And it came to the point where I knew that if I told you my – my situation, I would lose you. And that I couldn’t bear to contemplate.’ He gave a rueful little shrug. ‘But I lost you in the end anyway, didn’t I? I suppose it was inevitable.’

  Grace did not look at him, but sat gazing off into the trees on the far side of the park.

  ‘My wife,’ Kester said, ‘was a beautiful woman. She was –’

  Grace broke in: ‘Kester, I don’t know where this is getting us. I –’

  ‘Please,’ he said, ‘let me tell you.’ He paused, then went on, ‘My wife, Bella, is half-Italian. She was born in Florence. Her family still lives there – though she never sees them now. I met her there, in Florence, when I was there studying. And I was drawn to her. As I said, she was very beautiful. I was very young, and impressionable, and I had to have her. So we married, and I brought her back to England, here to a small village near Redbury. Sophie was born just over a year later.’ Looking off into the distance, he gave a little shake of his head. ‘It wasn’t a success, though, our marriage, I’m sorry to say. I could see that before too much time had gone by. I think my life was too dull for her. She was used to more exciting times, used to a more exciting life than that of an architect’s wife. So after a time we moved to London. I thought that would improve things, and it did for a while. But it wasn’t to last. She seemed to tire of things so quickly. Whatever it was, it seemed not to be long before disenchantment would set in, and whatever novelty she had would lose its allure. I’m afraid that went for me as well as everything else. Oh, yes, it wasn’t that long before the love between us died. Her love for me – if she’d ever had any, of course – was the first to go. I don’t think it took that long. And my love for her didn’t survive every obstacle. Love does not do that.’ He turned to Grace at this, as if to affirm his words. ‘Love can be a very fragile thing, I’ve discovered. In some respects, anyway. Sometimes it can withstand all kinds of hardships and buffeting, and at other times it breaks and crumbles away to nothing.’ He shrugged. ‘Perhaps in that case it is not true love. I don’t know.’

  A ball, thrown by a child, came rolling across the grass, coming to a halt near Kester’s foot. He bent, picked it up and tossed it to the small boy who came running in pursuit. He sat in silence for a moment and then continued:

  ‘Two years after Sophie was born I was offered some work by an Englishman living in Italy, in Naples. Bella was very anxious for me to investigate the job and to accept it. So, as not a lot was happening for me here in England we decided to go and look into it, and to have a pleasant little holiday at the same time. Incidentally, it was while we were on our way out there that we met Edward Spencer. He was travelling in Italy also on business. He seemed to me to be a man of great experience. A little older than I, and quite daring and adventurous. I think his adventurousness came about through his hard upbringing. By all he told me he had not had an easy life of it. Anyway, we became friends, and agreed to keep in touch – though that’s by the way, that has nothing to do with my own personal story with my wife.’

  On the breeze, from a distance, came the sound of a church clock striking the hour of two. Grace knew that she must soon go back to the draper’s, but she could not leave just yet. She must hear him out.

  ‘No, Spencer had nothing to do with my own story with my wife,’ Kester said. He gave a deep, short sigh, then went on, ‘We got to Naples and I had various meetings with the potential client, and as a family we had some pleasant excursions. Sophie was too young to appreciate the change of scene – but Bella loved being there.’ He paused. ‘And unfortunately, while we were there and I was having meetings with the Englishman she was having meetings with a certain gentleman.’

  A silence fell, and Grace said, ‘Someone she knew?’

  ‘No, no one she knew. A stranger. He was an opera singer. We met him one night in a restaurant after the opera. We had been to the opera that evening, and we had seen him perform. And as I say, we were in the restaurant having a light supper, when he came in with friends. He drew us into his conversation, and once he knew that we had seen his performance and enjoyed it, he invited us to join him at his table. I didn’t want to; I thought we should get back to Sophie who was at the hotel with the hired nurse, but Bella was keen to take advantage of the moment. Well, as it turned out, it was to become more than a moment. I won’t go into all the detail – I don’t know a lot of it myself – but suffice to say that Bella and the man were soon meeting in secret. And so it turned out that when I said it was time for us to move on and return to England, Bella said she would not. She wanted to stay on, she said, and then she told me of having fallen in love with the man.’

  ‘She was prepared to let her child go?’ Grace said, a note of incredulity in her voice.

  ‘Well, at first she said that I must leave Sophie with her, but I refused flatly. So then she said that she would remain in any case. I pleaded with her – to think of both of us, but nothing would change her mind. So I told her that I would take Sophie back to London.’

  ‘And that’s what you did,’ Grace said.

  ‘Not immediately. At first I thought that with time I could change Bella’s mind.’ Here his mouth was touched by a bitter smile. ‘You’ll notice that my love for her had not yet been destroyed, and I was still hopeful of reconciliation. So although Bella left the hotel and went off with her lover, Sophie and I remained, while I tried to do what I could to win Bella back. It was no good. She was totally infatuated with the man, and nothing I could say or do made any difference. And then, then I learned of a cholera outbreak in the city. People were dying. And with that I didn’t hesitate. I had to protect my daughter. So straight away I packed our bags and brought her back to England.’ He fell silent and sat looking off over the grass, but his focus was far away, as if he was seeing nothing but memories.

  ‘Of course,’ he said moments later, ‘I didn’t mention to anyone what had happened. No one at all. How could I? I couldn’t possibly admit to such a thing. I remember telling the maid that her mistress would not be returning yet. And soon after that the maid left and was replaced, so I had no need to lie or go into the matter further. I hired a nurse for Sophie and we tried to get on with our lives. Sophie missed her mother, of course, but
Bella was never the most caring and affectionate of mothers. Some women are just not. At the same time, children are very adaptable, and I honestly don’t think Sophie missed her mother for too long. Well, if she did,’ here he spread his hands in a little gesture of helplessness, ‘ – then it’s something I deeply regret. Not that I could do anything about it. Not a thing.’

  He turned and looked at Grace now. ‘I did the best for Sophie that I could do,’ he said. ‘And I know I’ve made mistakes, but I did the best I could under the circumstances.’

  Grace gave an almost imperceptible nod. ‘I’m sure you did.’

  Kester was quiet for a moment or two, as if gathering his thoughts, then he went on: ‘It didn’t last, her affair with the singer. I don’t think I expected it to. Not that I knew anything about it at the time. I didn’t hear anything more of her for some while. Years went by. And then she wrote to me. She was back in London, she said, and wished to see me. She asked me if she should come to the house. I wrote back at once saying that she must not. I couldn’t subject Sophie to any kind of – of drama. I told Bella that I would meet her. Which I did. We arranged to meet at Victoria Station. She was already there when I arrived. I noticed a change in her at once. And it wasn’t simply that she was older. There was a greater difference in her – one that had nothing to do with the time that had passed. She was still good-looking, but no longer beautiful. She was like a flower when it’s nearing the end of its season. Faded, overripe. We went into a hotel, to the bar there, and over drinks she told me her story. It didn’t all emerge easily; it came out in fits and starts, and bits and pieces. But I put it all together – which wasn’t difficult – and what a wretched story it made.’

  He had turned his face away from Grace now, looking off again, seeing scenes from the past.

  ‘The story that I gathered was that she and her singer had parted after a time, and she had gone with a new friend. She didn’t name him and I didn’t ask. It wasn’t important. This one didn’t last either, and it wasn’t long before she was on to the third. She was drinking too. This much was evident when we sat in the bar. She was well accustomed to drinking, I could see that.’ He paused, took a breath. ‘But the worst was yet to come. It soon became apparent, no matter what words she used to try to hide it, that she had been … that she had been … selling herself.’ He closed his eyes tightly, hanging his head. ‘There’s no other way of putting it. She had become – she was no more than a … a common prostitute. Imagine, she was making a life for herself – if you can call it that – in that way. With any man – indiscriminately.’ He lifted his head, opened his eyes and turned to Grace. ‘I don’t know how I can tell you this. And I can only say that you must never, never repeat what I say.’