Lizzie's Secret

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Lizzie's Secret Page 13

by Rosie Clarke


  ‘Please tell me what happened.’ Lizzie had to know the truth now.

  ‘You were viciously attacked and abused physically,’ her aunt said, the words so harsh that Lizzie felt as if she’d struck her. ‘In the struggle you were knocked unconscious.’ Her aunt went on relentlessly, ‘You were ill for a long time afterwards and when you lost the child, you developed a fever and you never recovered your senses properly, though you drifted in and out for months and then you went into… a state of shock the doctors called it.’

  Lizzie was stunned, unable to credit what she was hearing. ‘I was raped… I had a child…’

  ‘An unpleasant word, but I suppose that is the truth of it, though we can never know what happened that night… but you were left unconscious and bleeding. If you hadn’t been found by a nurse coming off a late night shift, I dare say you would have been dead by morning. Perhaps that would have been for the best…’

  Lizzie recoiled from the shock, unable to take in what her aunt was saying. ‘You would rather I had died…’

  ‘I did not want your shame to rebound on us, but of course your uncle moved Heaven and Earth to get the right treatment for you, especially after the child miscarried and they told us you would die. It cost him a fortune to send you to a private sanatorium…’

  ‘My God, you are a cruel witch,’ Lizzie said, staring at her with new-born hatred. ‘All these years you let me believe it was an accident… you never told me a word and now on my wedding day…’

  ‘Well, you had to know, because there’s still time to stop it…’

  Bile rose in Lizzie’s throat. ‘Get out, I never want to see you again,’ she said and then rushed from the room and out to the toilet in the backyard.

  As she vomited into the toilet pan, Lizzie was struggling to come to terms with what her aunt had told her. How could all those things have happened to her and she couldn’t remember any of it? Raped, battered and left to die… she couldn’t take it in, couldn’t accept it was true.

  She’d been carrying a child but it had been lost. Had her body rejected it and how long had she carried it…? So many questions unanswered. Her mind whirled with them, reeling from the shock, still unable to take any of it in.

  As the first shock started to recede, Lizzie began to think for herself. She couldn’t remember any of it, and because of that she began to reject what she’d been told. Surely if she’d been beaten and raped, carried and lost a child, she would remember something. No! It was a lie, a cruel lie to prevent her marriage. Aunt Jane had simply wanted to hurt her, so she’d invented this story. It couldn’t be the truth… surely she would remember something. She must know if she’d carried a child and given birth to it! So it had to be a lie – it had to be, because if it was true…

  ‘Lizzie, are you all right?’ Beth’s anxious voice was outside the door. ‘Did that old witch upset you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Lizzie said, making up her mind in that moment to ignore her aunt’s wicked lies. ‘She hates me and always has…’

  ‘I wish I’d slammed the door in her face,’ Beth said. ‘I can’t understand anyone who would come all this way just to be nasty on your wedding day…’

  Lizzie went out to her friend. ‘It was her revenge because my uncle left everything to me. I think she’s always hated me.’

  ‘Come on back upstairs and I’ll brush your hair,’ Beth said. ‘She’s a vicious old witch and if I were you I should never speak to her again.

  ‘I don’t intend to.’ Lizzie felt numb as she followed Beth back upstairs, the shadows her aunt’s bitter words had left behind flooding into her mind once more.

  Supposing it was all true? Harry loved her because he thought her perfect, untouched… if he thought she’d been tarnished…

  Sitting down on the edge of the bed as her legs suddenly felt weak, Lizzie was frightened. ‘I’m not sure I can go through with it… if she was telling the truth…’

  ‘What are you talking about’ Beth asked but Lizzie just shook her head.

  ‘I can’t talk about it… it was lies, it had to be…’

  ‘Lizzie love, look at me,’ Beth took her by the shoulders. ‘Harry adores you and you love him, don’t you?’ Lizzie nodded, her throat so tight with tears that she couldn’t speak. ‘Well, then, don’t let her win, Lizzie. You’ve found a new life for yourself. You can’t throw it away because of her nasty tongue.’

  ‘No…’ Lizzie raised her head, pride asserting itself. Harry loved her. She would tell him what her aunt said and they would laugh over it, because it was the most ridiculous tale. ‘No, it’s just nerves, Beth. All brides have them, don’t they?’

  *

  Beth looked at the simple white dress Lizzie had chosen for her wedding and felt a little envious. It fitted her as if it had been made for her, even though she’d bought it off the peg at a shop in the West End. She had made herself a hat of fine straw with tulle and veiling that had the sparkle of silver in it, and her shoes were white satin, her gloves lace and around her throat she wore a silver locket on a chain, which had belonged to Harry’s mother.

  ‘You look gorgeous,’ she said. ‘I do envy you, Lizzie, but it’s too late for me now. I’ve finished with Tony.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Beth. It’s unfair that I should meet Harry and marry him within a few months and you have to wait ages.’

  ‘Not your fault,’ Beth hugged her. ‘Are you all right now, love? She hasn’t ruined your big day?’

  ‘No, I’m over it now,’ Lizzie replied, though Beth wasn’t sure she was telling the truth. ‘Is my dress all right?’

  ‘That dress is lovely, but I wish you’d had your wedding in church.’

  ‘It was easier and quicker this way. Besides, the church wanted three weeks’ notice and Harry couldn’t give it,’ Lizzie replied, though Beth thought she looked a little disappointed. ‘Harry wanted us to be settled in before he goes off for his final months of training – and we’re having a few days at Torquay, in a posh hotel on the front.’

  ‘Yes, you are very lucky. I’m going to miss you, though. I was just getting used to having you with us and it was nice.’

  ‘You will have your bedroom back and you must admit it is better with all my stuff gone.’

  ‘I shall still miss you.’

  ‘I shall visit often and you must visit me when you can.’

  ‘I shall,’ Beth promised, but felt a bit miserable. ‘As long as you’re happy, Lizzie. That’s all I care about – besides, I shall have to go away if they take me on as a trainee nurse.’

  ‘I know I shall be happy with Harry. I hope you’ll be happy too. I know you’ll find someone you like soon…’

  Beth nodded, but Lizzie didn’t really know how it felt to be let down by a man she loved. Despite knowing that he wasn’t worth her tears if he would throw her over for a peroxide blonde who was anyone’s after she’d had a few drinks, she’d wept night after night, but now she’d made up her mind to put him out of her life and forget him.

  Beth watched Lizzie take her marriage vows. It wasn’t anywhere near as nice as a church service in her opinion, yet if Tony hadn’t walked out on her the way he had, she would have taken it.

  Beth made herself forget her own troubles as she saw that the wedding ceremony was over. It had taken no more than a few minutes before they were back out into the sunshine and piling into the cars Harry had hired to take them to the hotel for the reception. He looked so handsome and the way he touched Lizzie’s hand, the expression in his eyes was so tender and caring that Beth felt her heart tighten with pain. It was a long time – if ever – since Tony had looked at Beth that way.

  Beth wanted to be truly loved, the way her father loved her mother – and the way Harry obviously adored Lizzie. If Tony truly cared for her he would have waited until she was ready, and if he couldn’t… then perhaps he wasn’t the one for her.

  ‘Oh, Beth,’ Lizzie said, her eyes shining as they kissed at the reception. ‘I’m so happy. Look at that lovely buffe
t Harry arranged for us – and that cake: three tiers. I’m sure we’ll be eating it for months. I shall bring some round for your mum when…’ the happiness died from her eyes. ‘I mustn’t think about Harry going off so soon. He’ll be back for short breaks and I’ll soon get used to it…’

  ‘You’ll be too busy to feel lonely,’ Beth said. ‘Can I visit on Saturday afternoons and evenings – until I leave for my training anyway?’

  ‘I should love that,’ Lizzie kissed her cheek. ‘I’m so excited. I’ve never been further than Southend for a day trip. We’ve got five whole days to spend in Torquay.’

  ‘You’re so lucky. I wish I was in your shoes. Oh, I don’t mean married to Harry… but you know.’

  ‘Yes,’ Lizzie smiled softly. ‘I know I’m lucky, but I’m nervous too. It’s all so new and strange – it feels as if I’ve leapt off the edge of a cliff and I’m not sure where I’ll land.’

  ‘You’ve no need to worry,’ Beth told her, sensing that she was anxious about what her aunt had said to her. ‘Forget that old witch, love. Harry worships you. It’s in his eyes every time he looks at you, Lizzie. You’ll be looked after and loved all your life.’

  ‘Yes, I think I shall,’ Lizzie said. ‘I’d better talk to Harry’s uncle and cousins. I’ve got a big family all of a sudden…’

  Beth watched as she moved off to welcome a rather odd-looking man, his wife, her tall plain sister and her two daughters, and some other people Harry had vaguely said were cousins on his mother’s side. His own parents were dead, but he still had quite a large family and they all made a fuss of Lizzie and gave her exciting-looking parcels for their wedding gifts.

  She kissed Lizzie on the cheek when the time came for Harry to take her away on their honeymoon. Lizzie had made her choice, and Beth had made hers. As soon as she could, she would leave Oliver’s to become a nurse, because they were going to be needed. She would forget Tony and find happiness with her work and her friends…

  Chapter 19

  Lizzie looked round the comfortable hotel room. It wasn’t the biggest or the poshest hotel in Torquay but it was clean and smelled of fresh lavender and, set up on the cliffs, it had a lovely view out over the sea. She knew it must have cost Harry quite a bit to pay for this as well as the flowers, cars, and her lovely 22ct gold wedding ring, of course.

  She’d paid for her clothes herself out of the money that had come to her from her uncle, and most of her small legacy had gone now on things for the flat and presents, for Harry and her friends. Harry had spent most of his savings on getting things nice for them and he wouldn’t be earning much while he was training in the RAF. His wages would depend on how well he qualified at the end of his trial period – just as the success of her job at Oliver’s depended on Lizzie’s talent.

  Lizzie was deliberately dwelling on thoughts of the wedding and the good wishes of her friends, because at the back of her mind a tiny dark cloud was hovering. She’d had a moment of doubt when she’d thought she couldn’t go through with the wedding, but Beth had told her to stand firm and forget her aunt’s cruel words. Lizzie had managed to do that for large chunks of the time because the wedding was so lovely and everyone was kind… but always the thought that perhaps she didn’t deserve all this was there at the back of her mind. Her aunt had spoken of shame and Lizzie suspected that if those same people who kissed her and wished her happiness knew of her shame they would turn their noses up at her… but it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true! Her aunt had been lying, with the purpose of making her call off the wedding, to punish her…

  Harry came to put his arms about her as she stood looking out of the window at the sea. It was dark now because the hour was late, but the moon was bright and the waves moved restlessly, dashing themselves against a rocky outcrop that looked shiny black in the silvery light.

  ‘Are you happy, Mrs Oliver?’ he whispered against her ear. ‘How does it feel to be an old married lady?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She turned in his arms, looking up at him with love. ‘I’m a very new married lady and I feel nervous. I don’t know anything about being a wife, Harry.’

  He would be so disappointed if he wasn’t the first… the thought popped into her mind and her throat went tight with emotion. Tears stung her eyes but she banished them.

  It was lies, just lies. There was nothing to worry about. Her body was responding to Harry’s, to the touch of his mouth on her neck, and his hand moving over her bottom and pushing her against him. She gasped as a wave of sensual pleasure went through her and dismissed her fears. She couldn’t feel like this if her aunt’s story was true…

  ‘I do love you, Harry. Please don’t stop loving me, will you? Don’t be disappointed in me…’

  Harry burst out laughing and bent his head to kiss her softly on the lips. ‘You could never let me down,’ he said and gathered her into his arms, carrying her to the bed and kissing her again before he dropped her unceremoniously on the turned-back sheets. ‘You are the most beautiful thing in my life, Lizzie. I’m the one who is afraid of letting you down.’

  ‘Oh, Harry, you daft thing,’ she said and giggled. ‘Are you about to have your wicked way with me?’

  ‘Silence, wench,’ Harry teased. ‘I am your lord and master now and you will obey me.’

  Lizzie smiled, looking up at him confidently, because something inside her told her that Harry’s unceremonious dumping of her and his teasing covered the fact that he too was nervous. She believed, without being told, that he would never hurt her and she opened her arms to him as he lay down beside her and pressed his lips to hers in a passionate kiss that spoke of how much he loved and wanted her. She loved him and she could trust him, nothing else mattered. She would forget all those wicked lies and give herself to her husband with all the love that she felt for him.

  It was some time later that they lay together, all clothes abandoned in a heap, bodies slick with sweat and satiated with the sweetest loving that ever a bride had – at least that was the way Lizzie would always remember it. Harry’s touch thrilled her; his kisses were light and lingering, drawing a response from her that she might have compared to a master musician coaxing music from violin strings if she’d thought about it, but of course it never occurred to her. All she knew was that something inside her sang with joy as she gave herself to him with wondrous abandon. She wanted this night to go on forever, wished that it might never end and finished by weeping softly in his arms.

  Harry lay beside her for some minutes afterwards, and then he sat up, and got out of bed, pulling on a striped silk dressing robe. He stood looking at her for several minutes and Lizzie’s glow of pleasure left her, because the look in his eyes was so cold that she was frightened.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked. ‘Was it something I did?’

  ‘Who was he?’ Harry asked and ice shot down her spine. ‘Who was the filthy rotten bastard who had you first?’

  ‘What do you mean? Harry, no…’ Lizzie shuddered as she saw the anger and bitterness in his face and it suddenly struck home. Harry was asking her who had been her first lover, but it hadn’t been that way at all. She’d been raped and beaten and the horror of knowing the truth at last left her shaken and humiliated. It was all true. Everything her aunt had told her was true, and Harry knew – and he was disappointed and angry. ‘It wasn’t like that, believe me… I didn’t know…’

  A harsh disbelieving laugh burst from him. ‘What the hell are you talking about? Even the most innocent girl knows she’s been making love with a chap… whether she’s willing or not.’

  ‘I didn’t,’ Lizzie said in a voice that hardly resembled hers. ‘It was a part of my illness… you remember I told you that I had lost a chunk of time?’

  Harry’s eyes narrowed. She could see by his expression that he was too hurt, too shocked and disappointed to believe her. She swallowed hard as she tried to find the words to explain, knowing that whatever she said he was going to think she was lying… and in that moment she understood
what her aunt had been telling her. This could ruin her marriage before it had truly begun.

  ‘Yes, I remember that but you never said anything…’ An odd look entered his eyes. ‘Are you saying you were raped?’

  ‘Yes, I was – attacked, battered, raped and left for dead,’ she said in a whisper. ‘I was ill for months, and then, when I started to get better, I had lost months of time. I never knew what happened until this morning…’

  ‘Why this morning?’ Harry asked and something had softened slightly in his tone. ‘Tell me the truth, Lizzie.’

  ‘Aunt Jane came and told me, brutally, coldly – she said I shouldn’t marry you because it would make my life miserable, and she said I had no right to be your wife, because of my shame… but I didn’t know. I thought she was lying. Even after she told me, I thought she was lying. She hates me, Harry. I didn’t think it could be true… how could I be hurt like that and miscarry a child… and not know?’

  Harry’s face had gone cold again. ‘There was a child… did you carry it to full term?’

  ‘She said I miscarried in hospital and it led to my long illness. I didn’t ask any questions, because I didn’t want to know, because if it was true I knew it would spoil everything…’ His eyes were like black ice. ‘It has, hasn’t it? You hate me now don’t you, Harry?’

  ‘Hate? I’m not sure what I feel about you – but you’ve destroyed me…’ He swung away from her and picked up a packet of cigarettes, lighting one and drawing on it deeply. ‘I thought you were so lovely, so sweet and innocent – my little Lizzie.’ His back towards her, she saw the tension in him as he drew on the cigarette again, and then he turned to face her. ‘I’m not sure how I feel, Lizzie. You’re not who I thought you were. I feel cheated, tricked…’

  The love and adoration had all gone and he was like a stranger. ‘I’m still me, Harry. I don’t even remember what happened – please don’t punish me. I’m not a wanton. I didn’t have a lover… I was raped, beaten and left to die in a deserted alley…’

 

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