Secrets

by Lesley Pearse

  Crossing over, she walked back up the street to buy some more cigarettes in the post office. She was disappointed to find it wasn’t quite the same any more; there were still as many jars of sweets on the shelves, and knitting wool too, but it didn’t have that stuffed-to-capacity look she remembered.

  She bought a packet of Woodbines, and for old times’ sake a picture postcard of Winchelsea.

  ‘You’ve brought the sunshine with you,’ the woman behind the counter said with a smile. ‘They say it’s going to last for a few days yet.’

  The woman was about the same age as Rose, fat with a red, jolly face and black hair pulled back tightly. She didn’t have a Sussex accent so Rose was absolutely certain she wasn’t someone she’d been to school with.

  ‘I used to come here as a child,’ Rose confided. ‘It’s all still exactly the same.’

  ‘Nothing much ever happens here,’ the woman replied with a slight grimace, as if she held it against the place. ‘My hubby and I bought this shop ten years ago now, and I bet I could tell you every single event in that time.’ She laughed merrily. ‘You’d be bored though, it would only be about who was born, married or died.’

  Rose felt like lingering and hearing about people she had once known. ‘There used to be a lady called Mrs Whitehouse in Harrington House. Is she still living there?’ she asked.

  ‘No, she and her husband died a while ago,’ the shopkeeper replied. ‘Their daughter lives there now.’

  Rose realized this daughter must be the one-time owner of the blue velvet dress, and that intrigued her. ‘What’s she like?’ she asked. ‘I seem to remember her as being very beautiful and elegant, but that was a long time ago.’

  ‘Oh, she’s still that.’ The woman smiled. ‘A bit cuckoo though.’

  ‘In what way?’ Rose inquired.

  The shopkeeper leaned her elbows on her counter, obviously glad to share a bit of gossip. ‘Everyone knows she’s separated from her husband, but she pretends everything’s hunky dory between them. He comes down here from their old home just for the odd weekend, I suppose that’s to make things look better.’

  Rose thought if she kept this woman chatting she could maybe ask a few questions about her mother and Adele. ‘Why would a separated couple want to pretend they are still together?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, Mr Bailey is a barrister,’ the woman said.

  The hairs on the back of Rose’s neck suddenly rose at that name.

  ‘I dare say he’s worried about a scandal,’ the woman continued. ‘Important men are like that, so I’ve heard tell.’

  ‘What did you say his name was?’ Rose asked. It surely couldn’t be the Mr Bailey she knew. Yet he had been a lawyer, and he did once say he had a relative in Winchelsea.

  ‘Bailey, Myles Bailey,’ the woman said. Then, perhaps seeing the shock on Rose’s face, she blushed. ‘Oh Gawd. My hubby’s always telling me I should think before I open my mouth. Do you know him?’

  ‘No. No, I don’t,’ Rose said hurriedly. ‘I used to know another Bailey around here. But it wouldn’t be the same family. I must go now, someone’s waiting for me.’

  As she stepped out of the shop into the hot sun, Rose felt sick. She rushed over the road to the pub, and sat down on the bench outside in the shade, opening her handbag with trembling hands to find her cigarettes.

  Bailey was a common name, but Myles certainly wasn’t. It had to be him, even though she knew he lived somewhere in Hampshire at the time she met him. When he said he had a relative in Winchelsea she had assumed it was a very distant one. But then she supposed a man intent on seducing a young waitress would hardly be likely to tell her it was his in-laws, when he hadn’t yet admitted he was married.

  ‘There you are!’ Johnny’s voice from the pub doorway made her jump. ‘’Ad a good look round?’

  She nodded, feeling unable to speak.

  ‘You all right, girl?’ he asked, coming closer and peering at her. ‘You’re as white as a sheet!’

  ‘I feel a bit queasy,’ she said. ‘That fried breakfast after all the drink last night, I expect. Could you get me a glass of water?’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Honour smiled to herself as she stood at the sink in the scullery. Michael was with Adele in the garden, sitting on a rug under the apple tree, and she guessed that the tiny parcel he was just giving her held an engagement ring.

  It felt like a good omen that the sun had come out again for Adele’s nineteenth birthday. It seemed to have been raining ever since the hot spell in June when Rose had suddenly appeared. Honour had been feeling very low since then, half expecting that her daughter would appear again.

  She wished she had managed to establish why and how she came. It must have been by car, the bus had gone earlier, and she surely couldn’t have walked from Rye in those high heels. What did she really want? Was it forgiveness, or something more sinister?

  If it was forgiveness she certainly hadn’t made any effort to win it. Perhaps she’d merely been passing in a man friend’s car and felt compelled to call in? But would any reasonable person call at a place where they weren’t sure of a welcome?

  Because she couldn’t rationalize why her daughter had called, Honour felt unable to tell Adele about it. Yet neither could she forget about the visit, it was like having a sore place in her mouth which her tongue kept visiting.

  Yet Rose couldn’t have been seriously intent on seeing her daughter again or she would at least have sent a birthday card today.

  In view of that, perhaps she was right to keep it to herself.

  Adele’s cry of delight made Honour cast her more gloomy thoughts aside and look back at the couple in the garden. She thought the sight would make a wonderful picture, Michael kneeling up on the rug, looking so dashing in his new RAF uniform, and Adele as pretty as a May morning in a pink and white print dress, gasping with delight at the ring he was putting on her finger.

  Honour wiped a stray tear from her face with the corner of her apron. The engagement ring Frank had given her was made of daisies, as he knew he’d have to ask her father’s permission to marry her before a real one could be bought. They had been at a tennis party and had given the chaperone the slip that afternoon, and if it was found out they’d been lying in long grass kissing each other they would have been in serious trouble.

  She had wanted Frank with intense passion from the very first kiss; it was only through lack of opportunity that she was still a virgin on their wedding day. Honour sensed that Adele and Michael felt that way too. She could feel a current flowing between them, they reached out for each other’s hands all the time, their bodies seemed to sway together as they walked. It was going to be hard for them to have a long engagement, but with the threat of war growing each day, getting married quickly was not a sensible thing to do.

  ‘Granny!’ Adele called out. ‘Come and see!’

  Honour glanced in a small mirror and arranged her face in an expression of ‘Whatever now?’

  ‘I’m busy,’ she said with pretended crossness as she stepped out of the back door.

  ‘Not too busy to see this,’ Adele thrilled out, her voice shrill with excitement. ‘Michael’s asked me to marry him and he’s bought me a ring.’

  It was a beautiful ring, a single sapphire surrounded by tiny diamonds, and Honour knew it must have cost a fortune. It was on the tip of her tongue to say Michael would have been wiser to have kept the money in a bank for when they were married, but the expression on his face stopped her.

  He was looking at her granddaughter with such tenderness and joy that Honour couldn’t diminish his gift. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said instead. ‘And I hope you’ll always be as happy together as you are now.’

  ‘You don’t object then?’ Michael said anxiously. ‘Maybe I should’ve asked you first, but I didn’t know how.’

  ‘I couldn’t be happier,’ Honour said, feeling a little dizzy with the unexpected emotions washing over her. ‘You’ll make a fine husband for my granddau
ghter. I couldn’t have chosen anyone better myself.’

  Michael had thought of everything, it seemed, he even had a bottle of champagne in his car packed in a box of ice and a set of real champagne glasses. Honour would once have thought that was suspiciously suave, but she knew this lad and guessed he had spent many long weeks planning it all, not to be flashy but to make Adele feel really special.

  They drank the champagne in the garden, and Adele was soon very giggly as it went straight to her head. They chatted idly, about Michael’s flying and Adele’s nursing.

  ‘I don’t want to cloud your happiness,’ Honour said a little later. ‘But when are you going to tell your parents, Michael?’

  ‘Tomorrow,’ he said firmly. ‘Father’s coming down for the weekend along with Ralph and Diana and their other halves and children. There will never be a better moment. I’m going to suggest that the next time they are all there again, Mother invites Adele too so she can meet them all formally.’

  Honour felt a pang of fear, even though Michael looked supremely confident. ‘Good for you, Michael,’ she said.

  A look of anxiety swept across Adele’s face though. ‘What if…’ she said, and then faltered.

  Michael took her hand in his. ‘I don’t care if they don’t approve,’ he said firmly. ‘It will be their loss not mine if they can’t welcome you to our family. I won’t have anything more to do with any of them.’

  Honour admired his courage and said so. ‘But take it easy,’ she warned him. ‘It takes a while for any parent to accept that their child is old enough to pick a wife or husband. You might be wiser to leave them to mull it over before insisting that Adele is invited to your mother’s home.’

  ‘Granny’s right,’ Adele agreed. ‘I couldn’t bear to go there until I’m sure they’ve come round. I’d be happier just meeting your mother again first.’

  ‘Mother will be all right,’ Michael said, reaching out and touching Adele’s cheek. ‘I told her a few weeks ago that I’d been seeing you.’

  ‘You didn’t say!’ Adele said indignantly.

  Michael smiled. ‘Do you tell me absolutely everything?’

  Adele grinned. ‘I only leave out boring things. That wasn’t boring. What did she say?’

  ‘Not a great deal, but she certainly didn’t go off the deep end.’

  ‘But your father won’t see it like that, he’ll only remember that I was your mother’s housekeeper, and rude to him too.’

  ‘Maybe so, but he’s not entirely unreasonable,’ Michael insisted. ‘These aren’t Victorian times, there’s a war brewing too, and he’s shrewd enough to realize I’ll only become more determined if he opposes me.’

  Michael felt very confident during the family dinner on Saturday night. His parents were both in mellow moods, both his brother and sister seemed pleased to be here with their families, and Mrs Salloway, his mother’s housekeeper, had surpassed herself by making a truly delicious meal of steak and kidney pie served with fresh vegetables grown in the garden.

  They had all spent the afternoon on the beach with the children, who had then been fed in the kitchen and were now in bed. The lighted candles on the table, the gleaming silverware, and the soft, warm breeze coming through the open windows were setting a tranquil scene for his announcement.

  He wasn’t that bothered for himself if they opposed the marriage. Three years at Oxford, and now mixing with men from all walks of life in the RAF, had made him very aware that he could manage quite well without his family.

  In fact sometimes he hoped for an excuse to distance himself from all of them for he was sick and tired of his parents’ ridiculous games with each other. He also found Ralph and Diana’s snobbishness appalling.

  But for Adele’s sake he was going to give it his best shot. He didn’t want her to feel second-rate or shamed. She was a far better person than all his family put together, and just the thought that they might look down on her as being somehow inferior made him angry.

  His eyes flitted around the table. His father at the head, slurping down yet another glass of red wine, as if excess drink would make the weekend go faster and he could get back to see his mistress. Diana next to him, still toying with her food, was a younger version of their mother in looks, the same reddish-gold hair and blue eyes and her blue chiffon dress gave her the same elegant prettiness. Sadly, she had inherited their father’s pomposity, and his abrasive manner.

  Her husband David next to her was unprepossessing, thin with stooped shoulders, a weak chin and thinning sandy hair, but then he hadn’t needed looks to attract Diana – his family’s wealth did that.

  Ralph’s wife Laura, sitting beside Michael, had put on a lot of weight recently and with her blonde hair arranged in loose curls she looked cherubic. Michael liked Laura; she was lazy, especially when dealing with her children, but a good woman nevertheless, who deserved better than bullying Ralph for a husband, and she looked pretty tonight in pale green silk.

  Ralph, the other side of Laura, was on his second or third helping of food, stuffing it in as if he hadn’t eaten for a week. He too was putting on weight fast, something Diana had pointed out earlier. But then he was greedy in every way, for money, food and attention.

  Then finally his mother at the foot of the table, as immaculate as ever, her hair swept sternly back off her face and arranged in two sleek coils at the sides of her head. Michael assumed that was the latest fashionable hair-style, even if it did give her the look of a telephonist, for she studied fashion magazines constantly. She was wearing a lilac dress with little-girl puffed sleeves. Michael had noticed she always wore something that gave her a slightly young and vulnerable look when Father was visiting. But at least she had laid off the wine tonight and perhaps that was because Myles had been quite pleasant to her all day.

  Michael could not imagine Adele having anything in common with any of them, except perhaps Laura.

  Mrs Salloway came into the room and began collecting up the empty plates. Michael approved of this excellent housekeeper; her cooking was first class, she was calm and pleasant, and she handled his mother’s moods very well.

  ‘The steak and kidney pie was marvellous, Mrs Salloway,’ he said. He always strived to show his appreciation of her as no one else ever did. ‘What treat have we got for pudding?’

  She smiled, her plain lined face lighting up. ‘I’ve made one of my summer puddings,’ she said. ‘I hope it will be all right, the blackcurrants are almost over now.’

  ‘I’m sure it will be scrumptious,’ he said.

  When she disappeared back into the kitchen Ralph gave Michael a scornful look. ‘Why d’you always suck up to the staff? They get paid for what they do.’

  ‘People need to feel appreciated as well as being paid,’ Michael pointed out, trying not to show his irritation at his brother’s lack of sensitivity. ‘If Mrs Salloway left, mother would be hard pressed to replace her.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Myles said. ‘She might be forced to get another girl like that appalling one from the marshes.’

  ‘She wasn’t appalling,’ Michael snapped back, horrified that somehow Adele had cropped up before he could make his announcement as he’d planned.

  ‘No she wasn’t, Myles,’ his mother piped up. ‘I missed her when she left. She was bright and gay and had a good heart. Mrs Salloway might be a better housekeeper, but she’s very gloomy.’

  Michael thought fast. While he was heartened by his mother’s support for Adele, she might change tack if he made his announcement immediately. Yet to delay would be a betrayal of his love for Adele.

  He took a deep breath. ‘I had intended to wait until we’d got to the brandy before telling you my news,’ he said, looking around the table. ‘But under the circumstances I will tell you it now. Yesterday I asked Adele Talbot to marry me, and she accepted.’

  ‘Who is Adele Talbot?’ Diana asked, her sharp nose quivering as if she’d smelled blood.

  ‘The appalling girl from the marshes, no less,’ Ralph
said with a snort of derision. ‘Good God, Michael. You must be having us on!’

  ‘You mean Mummy’s old maid?’ Diana brayed out. ‘Oh surely not, Michael!’

  He looked around the table and saw horror on every face. Even Laura, whom he had always counted as an ally, looked shocked beyond belief. His mother looked panicked.

  ‘I knew Adele long before she came here to help Mother out,’ he said, trying hard to keep his voice firm. ‘I met her when I was sixteen. She was just a friend then, and every one of you should be grateful to her for the way she took care of Mother. She became a nurse after she left here. I kept in touch and our friendship grew into love. She is my fiancée now, and with or without your approval I will marry her.’

  ‘But she’s common,’ Diana retorted, her mouth twisted into a sneer.

  ‘I wouldn’t call her common,’ his mother said, giving her daughter a disapproving look. ‘I would call her most un-common. My mother thought a great deal of her grandmother, Honour. She always said it was the most apt name for the woman to have.’ She turned to Michael then. ‘But I’m sorry, Michael, even if I know Adele is neither common nor appalling, I can’t approve of you marrying her. I’ve got nothing against her personally. But she is most unsuitable for a boy of your background and education.’

  ‘Thank you for that, Mother,’ Michael said with heavy sarcasm. ‘But what you all consider unsuitable means nothing to me. Suitable to me means a woman I love, respect, and who has the same aims and ambitions. I don’t share aims and ambition with anyone in my family. Neither do I see any real love around this table.’

  ‘You are a fool, son,’ Myles roared out suddenly. ‘You marry some little upstart from the marshes and you’ll live to regret it. You’ve got a fine career ahead of you, but she’ll hold you back.’

  ‘How will she hold me back?’ Michael asked. ‘She’s as well read as I am, she speaks the King’s English, she can hold a knife and fork properly. She’s a kind, good, beautiful person. I can’t make that claim about any of you. But I’m not going to argue any further with you, I intend to marry Adele with or without your blessing. If you can’t accept her for being the woman I love, then I have nothing more to say to any of you.’