White Rose of Winter

by Anne Mather

  ‘I really don’t see why Julie needs to go,’ Lucy Pemberton was saying. ‘I understood you were only going to see the contractors, Robert.’

  ‘I am. But as Julie is to live there I don’t see why she shouldn’t see the place.’ He turned to his sister-in-law. ‘Do you want to go?’

  Julie hesitated. Of course she wanted to go. But a morning spent in Robert’s company could be disastrous to her peace of mind. Nevertheless, a morning spent with Lucy Pemberton was likely to be much worse.

  ‘Of course I want to go,’ she said, infusing a note of casual interest into her voice, endeavouring to show him she was in complete control of herself again. ‘If you’d woken me earlier, I’d not have kept you waiting so long.’

  Robert looked relieved. ‘Fine. Well, get a coat. It’s fine, but it’s damn cold, believe me.’

  ‘I do.’ Julie nodded, and with lightening steps left the room.

  The only coat she had to wear at the moment was the sable fur which had been her only extravagance, and which she had bought on the advice of a friend, before leaving Kuala Lumpur. It had seemed ridiculous buying such a garment out there, but she had been glad of its warmth yesterday afternoon getting off the aircraft. So she put it on, grimacing at the purple trousers as she did so. Actually, though, they didn’t look at all bad together, the coat being only a little longer than thigh length anyway. Strands of her hair looked pale and attractive against the upturned collar, and she decided there was no trace now of her earlier distress.

  When she returned to the lounge, Robert stubbed out the cigar he had been smoking and walked abruptly towards the outer door followed by an excited Emma. Lucy clicked her tongue in obvious annoyance.

  ‘And when will you be back?’ she demanded. ‘It’s nearly eleven o’clock now!’ She gave Julie a crushing stare. ‘I thought you said you wanted to go shopping.’

  Julie was taken aback. It had not been her suggestion that they might visit the stores. ‘We can go another day,’ she replied, glancing awkwardly at Robert to observe his reaction.

  ‘I see.’ Lucy tilted her head to register her disapproval and unwillingly Julie recalled her insinuations of the night before.

  Robert had opened the lounge door and was looking impatient. ‘Are you coming or are you not?’ he inquired, with cold politeness.

  Julie pressed her lips together, and then with a slight movement of her shoulders she walked towards him. ‘I’m coming,’ she averred firmly.

  After allowing Emma to scramble into the back, Julie took her seat in the front of the Aston Martin with a curious feeling of relief. She refused to consider what Lucy might say when next they were alone together. She must try and prevent her from intimidating her as she seemed so easily capable of doing. She was only a woman, after all, not an ogre, and surely she ought to be able to cope with that.

  Robert slid into his seat beside her, slamming his door and starting the powerful engine. With him came a cold draught of air and the more intimate odours like shaving cream and soap, and the clean, warm, male smell of his body.

  Trying to distract herself, Julie wondered what he did with his time these days. Six years ago he had been an active member of the company, but perhaps now he had given that up. And soon he would have a wife to consider. The muscles of her stomach contracted. She would not think of things like that. But it was extraordinarily difficult not to do so with Robert sitting here in the car beside her, touchable, and yet untouchable, so near, and yet so distant. What was this woman like whom his mother seemed to consider so suitable, so acceptable for him? Was she beautiful? How long had he known her? How late had he been with her last night?

  She had not been paying much attention to their whereabouts, but now she was aware that Emma was asking him questions about the places they were passing, and she realized Robert was taking them on a swift tour of the city. Looking about her, she recognized the shops of Oxford Street, and just at that moment, Emma said: ‘Isn’t this exciting, Mummy? Uncle Robert’s going to drive up the Mall soon to Buckingham Palace!’

  Julie managed a smile. ‘So long as you don’t expect to see the Queen,’ she observed dryly. ‘She didn’t know you were coming, you see.’

  Emma gurgled with laughter at this and Julie bent her head.

  After driving past the palace, and allowing Emma to exclaim with delight at the guards outside, they turned into Birdcage Walk and crossed the river at Westminster Bridge to allow her to see the Houses of Parliament. Then the car picked up speed and Julie glanced inquiringly at her brother-in-law.

  ‘Am I allowed to ask where we’re going?’

  Robert slowed as they encountered a snarl-up of traffic and looked at her. ‘Of course. We’re on the Dartford road. On our way to Thorpe Hulme.’

  ‘Thorpe Hulme?’ Julie frowned. ‘I’ve never heard of it.’

  ‘Why should you? It’s not a particularly well known place. Just a village, in fact.’

  ‘And – and that’s where this – this house is?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘I see.’ Julie looked out at the passing landscape. ‘And what made you choose Thorpe Hulme?’

  Robert hesitated, his fingers tightening on the wheel. ‘When Pamela and I get married, we hope to live at Farnborough. Her parents live at Orpington, and she doesn’t want to live too far away from them. Thorpe Hulme is approximately ten miles from Farnborough.’

  Julie digested this slowly. So when Robert was married he would be living only ten miles away. The idea was intolerable. She had a sudden and intense longing for the peace and tranquillity of the bungalow outside Rhatoon.

  But knowing something was expected of her, she folded her gloves in her lap, and said: ‘I should have thought the apartment would have been a more suitable home for you. Close to the office, and so on. Or don’t you take any active part in the proceedings any longer?’

  The traffic was opening out again, and Robert negotiated a fleet of slow-moving lorries before replying: ‘Naturally I still work for the company. Being a sybarite for the rest of my life doesn’t appeal to me. Although naturally, once I’m married, I shall curtail my commitments abroad.’

  Julie’s lips tightened. ‘My! You’ve changed!’ she remarked.

  Robert flashed her an impatient look. ‘I thought we had agreed not to argue in front of the child,’ he exclaimed.

  ‘I’m not arguing,’ Julie contradicted, and then realized she was doing just that. ‘Well, anyway, an observation can hardly be called an argument just because it’s not to your liking!’

  Robert’s face registered his displeasure, but he made no further comment, which made Julie chide herself for creating another open rift between them. Why couldn’t she just accept the situation as it was, and not torture herself by thoughts of what might have been?

  She glanced at Emma and her daughter slid her arms round her neck from behind and hugged her spontaneously. Julie blinked back tears of self-pity. She had chosen her road in life. She had insisted on avoiding the humiliation of appealing to Robert for his help at a time when she most needed it. So how could she now inwardly rebuke him for something of which he had known nothing? And yet he was to blame …

  They left the main road and followed a winding country road for some distance before reaching the village of Thorpe Hulme. Even Julie, in her depressed state of mind, could see that it was a pretty place, and Emma pointed excitedly to the pond in the middle of the green where several ducks swam contentedly.

  There was a row of cottages flanking the green, two pubs, a village school, a couple of small religious establishments, and a shop which looked as though it might sell anything and everything. There were trees everywhere, although now these were bare of leaves and were mere skeletons of their summer selves.

  Robert made various observations for Emma’s benefit, and then drove on through the village to the outskirts. At the end of the main street, he turned into a lane which in turn led through double wrought iron gates, now standing open, and up the dr
ive to a house that was temporarily concealed by the privet hedging the drive. Several vans of the various contractors making alterations to the place stood on the forecourt, but it was the house itself which caught Julie’s attention.

  It was one of those small Georgian houses that were presently costing the earth to buy. Lots of small windows, slightly bow-fronted to the main rooms, gave it a charm all its own, and as it was painted white and framed by pine trees it could not have looked more attractive.

  Robert brought the car to a halt beside the other vehicles and then looked across at Julie, drawing in his lower lip with his even white teeth. ‘Well?’ he said, and there was neither reproach nor enthusiasm in his voice.

  Julie was staring at the house. She seemed to be finding it difficult to gather her thoughts. Shaking her head, she thrust open her door and stepped out into the frosty air. Hugging the sable coat about her, she was scarcely conscious of Robert getting out of the car and helping Emma to climb out of the back until Emma scampered up to her and said:

  ‘Is this where we’re going to live, Mummy? Oh, isn’t it super?’

  She ran on ahead, not waiting for an answer, and Julie became aware of Robert at her side. Looking up at his enigmatic face, she made a helpless gesture. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said. ‘However did you find it?’

  Robert thrust his hands into the pockets of his sheepskin coat. ‘It came on the market about three months ago, about the time Michael died, in fact. I bought it because I liked it.’

  ‘But not with me in mind,’ Julie prompted.

  Robert strode on ahead, glancing back over his shoulder. ‘Does it matter?’ he asked, and joining Emma he thrust open the door and entered the house.

  Julie followed more slowly. She wanted to look and digest the knowledge that this was to be her home, possibly for the rest of her life! But no. Once Emma was old enough to leave home, then she would leave, too. She could always take a flat, providing she could afford one. It was strange how the idea of ever marrying again never even entered her head … Not now …

  Robert and Emma were standing in the hall. Robert was talking to two men in overalls, and there was a smell of new paint and wallpaper pervading the atmosphere. Surprisingly, though, the house was warm, and she realized the central heating was working.

  She waited patiently until he had finished asking about various improvements which were being made, and then when the men went away he turned to her.

  ‘They’ve nearly finished,’ he explained. ‘There’s no furnishings in the place, of course, but you can look around if you’d like to.’

  Julie nodded eagerly. ‘I’ve love to.’ Then she hesitated a moment. ‘Oh – oh, and Robert?’

  ‘Yes?’ His expression was not encouraging.

  ‘I-thank you.’

  Robert’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re thanking me?’ he queried mockingly, and Julie turned abruptly away.

  ‘You said we were not to argue,’ she said heatedly.

  Robert expelled his breath noisily. ‘All right, all right, I’m sorry. We don’t seem capable of conducting a normal conversation, do we?’

  ‘No.’

  Julie walked slowly through an open doorway into a room to the right of the front door. Here the walls were all white apart from the fireplace wall which had been papered in deep blue damask. The fireplace was obsolete, of course, but an electric fire had been installed into the aperture to aid the central heating.

  Robert followed her, leaving Emma to explore alone. ‘This is your lounge,’ he said, speaking formally. ‘I realize the colour scheme might not be to your liking, but there was no time to wait for you to come and choose it for yourself. You can do it over later if you like.’

  Julie tried to be equally formal. ‘And have you chosen the furniture, too?’

  Robert hesitated. ‘No, actually Pamela did that.’

  ‘That was kind of her.’ Julie tried to think detachedly. ‘Do you know what she’s chosen?’

  ‘Just the necessary things. You can choose your own ornamentation, pictures and so on later.’

  ‘I see.’ Julie walked to the windows which overlooked the front sweep of the house. ‘And what do you call the necessary things?’

  ‘Oh, carpets, a suite, television, and so on. I believe the carpet in here is going to be grey and blue, to match the wallpaper.’ He shrugged. ‘I believe the suite she chose was leather, but I can’t be certain.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Julie turned and walked out of the room again, crossing the hall to enter an almost identical room opposite. ‘This is another reception room, I suppose.’

  ‘That’s up to you.’ Robert entered the room and showed her how the central partition which divided this room from the one at the back of the house could be slid aside to reveal a dining area, ideal for if one wanted to give parties and needed more space.

  Julie walked through. The garden at the back of the house was extensive, and there were fruit trees and lawns which were presently being attended to by a gardener.

  She could hear footsteps upstairs and guessed Emma was having the time of her life exploring. She opened a door which gave on to the hall again, and glanced at the other doors.

  ‘You have a morning-room, or breakfast-room, just as you like, a large kitchen, and various outbuildings,’ said Robert, noticing her questioning stare. ‘Do you want to go upstairs?’

  Julie’s lips twitched. The tension between them was such that she felt if she didn’t laugh she would burst into tears. Robert saw her amusement and frowned. ‘Is something funny?’

  Julie sobered, shaking her head. ‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘No, of course not.’

  Robert walked to the foot of the stairs. ‘You can go alone, if you’d rather,’ he said coldly, indicating that he was aware of what had caused her to smile.

  Julie looked up at him and sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Robert,’ she said huskily. ‘Just give me time. I – well, it’s all so – so – different.’

  Robert looked down at her intently. ‘Do you think I’m not aware of that?’ he demanded harshly.

  Julie trembled for a moment in the grip of emotions she could not entirely control, and then without another word, she turned and hurried up the stairs to find Emma – and security.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  IT was almost two o’clock before they left the house. Emma had insisted on seeing everything, it was all new and exciting to her, and she had asked Robert dozens of questions, seemingly appointing him her adviser. Julie had accompanied them round with a bitter-sweet feeling of intrusion.

  In one of the upstairs rooms they had discovered the trunks which had come by sea from Malaya, and Emma begged Julie to open them.

  ‘But, darling, there’s nowhere to put anything yet,’ Julie had protested. Then: ‘But perhaps we ought to take some of our clothes back to the apartment.’ She looked up at Robert. ‘How long – how much longer are we likely to be staying with you?’

  Robert drew out a case of cigars and put one between his teeth. ‘I’m told the house will be ready for occupation in about a week. That means you should be able to move in in – say ten days.’

  ‘Ten days!’ echoed Julie, in surprise. She opened her handbag to look for the keys of the trunks. ‘Then we’ll have to take some of these things. Emma and I can’t continue to wear the same things day after day.’

  Robert went down on his haunches beside the trunks, examining the padlocks. ‘You could buy yourself some new clothes,’ he remarked, without looking up.

  Julie paused a moment. ‘Could we? What with?’

  Robert straightened. ‘My mother has accounts at all the major stores in town. You can get anything you want and charge it.’

  ‘No, thanks.’ Julie continued to fumble about in the bottom of her bag. ‘Damn, where are they?’

  Robert controlled his temper with apparent difficulty. ‘Must you be so rude?’ he snapped. ‘You must know, as Michael’s widow, you’re entitled to anything you need.’

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p; Julie’s eyes sparkled with anger as she looked up. ‘What? And have your mother tell me how dependent I am upon you?’

  Robert’s face darkened. ‘One day, Julie …’ he muttered menacingly, and taking a deep breath he went down on his haunches again beside the trunks.

  Julie hid her nervousness at his words and a moment later produced the set of keys from her bag. Robert reached up and took them wordlessly from her hand, and after examining them he found the right key for the trunk nearest to him and unlocked it abruptly. Then he unfastened the leather straps which were a subsidiary means of support and lifted the heavy lid.

  Emma jumped about excitedly, and would have delved into the trunk as soon as it was open had not Robert restrained her. Julie surveyed the packed contents with sudden emotion. Several newspaper-wrapped packages nestled among cotton sheets and bedcoverings, while the top of a cardboard box containing some china and glassware was just visible.

  Gathering her composure, she shook her head, finding it difficult to articulate suddenly. ‘I – this is the wrong one,’ she said tautly. ‘Our – our clothes are in the other.’

  Robert closed the trunk lid again, much to Emma’s disappointment, fastened the straps and secured the padlock. Then he pocketed the keys. Julie stared at him in surprise.

  ‘Come along,’ he said, ‘That will do for now.’

  Julie made a protesting gesture. ‘But our clothes—’

  Robert walked to the door of the room. ‘Later,’ he said.

  Julie hunched her shoulders, and kicked one of the trunks with the toe of her shoe. ‘I’ve got to get some things,’ she insisted.

  Robert shook his head. ‘You’re not unpacking the trunks,’ he stated unequivocally. ‘Now, let’s go. It’s late, and I’m hungry.’

  Julie hesitated a moment longer and then acquiesced. She didn’t want to unpack the trunks, not now, and she couldn’t help but feel a reluctant appreciation of his perception.