Secrets

by Lesley Pearse

‘Now, if you’d told me when we met that you were married and your in-laws were Mr and Mrs Whitehouse, I wouldn’t have even gone for a walk with you. After all, my mother, Honour Harris, was a friend of your mother-in-law.’

  At that he put his elbows on his desk and cradled his head in his hands. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ he gasped out. ‘I never connected Adele with you. And she was living in my wife’s house as her maid!’

  This much was news to Rose. Honour had said she’d been working as a housekeeper, but she hadn’t said who for. Clearly her daughter was a chip off the old block, grabbing a good opportunity when it came along. It was a shame though that she had unwittingly to grab her own brother.

  ‘Oh God! What am I going to do?’ Myles gasped.

  Rose half smiled. She guessed that Myles Bailey QC didn’t often make such an admission. His court wig was sitting on a dummy head in the corner. His court gowns hung on the door. He was used to wringing the truth out of defendants and witnesses, but not to being held accountable for his own indiscretions.

  ‘You’ll have to tell your son that Adele is his sister,’ Rose said. ‘That is, if you don’t want him to make an incestuous marriage.’

  ‘What proof do you have that Adele is my child?’ he asked suddenly, and she saw his eyes narrow with guile. ‘Adele’s name is Talbot. Where did that name come from if you are Rose Fitzsimmons now?’

  ‘That name was just a smokescreen,’ Rose said airily. ‘My married name is Talbot. I married Jim Talbot just before Adele was born, purely so she could have his name. But should you think he is her real father, add up the dates. You took me away with you from Rye in March of 1918 when I was seventeen. I was with you right up till the day you dumped me in King’s Cross in January the following year. I was already three months pregnant then. I married Talbot in May and Adele was born in July.’

  ‘That isn’t proof I am her father,’ he retorted.

  ‘Anyone who met me during those ten months we were together would vouch that I spent my days waiting for you to come home from your “business matters”. I even told the doctor I saw in King’s Cross your name. Then of course there are such things as blood tests.’

  Myles was silent for quite some time, and Adele could see a vein throbbing on the side of his head. He was sweating, pulling at the collar of his shirt as if it was strangling him.

  ‘What do you want, Rose?’ he asked eventually. ‘Somehow I don’t believe it’s just the desire to make sure Adele and Michael finish their relationship.’

  Rose decided to ignore the question about what she wanted for the time being. ‘I was rather hoping you were going to tell me how you think we should go about ending the relationship,’ she said with a defiant toss of her head. ‘Obviously it has to be done, but one way might be less destructive than another.’

  ‘I am not speaking to Michael at the moment,’ he said. ‘If I was to go to him and tell him this he wouldn’t believe me.’

  Rose gave a little chuckle as she guessed why this was. ‘So you didn’t like the idea of your son marrying my Adele? Not good enough for your golden boy, eh? A girl from the marshes marrying the KC’s son?’

  He had the grace to look a little ashamed.

  ‘Your wife will divorce you if this gets out,’ she said. ‘It could get out too, very easily. What will your other children have to say about it? What will it do to your standing here?’ She thumbed towards the door. ‘Incest is a very nasty word. For all we know it might have already happened. And Michael an officer in the RAF too.’

  It was very satisfying to see him seriously frightened. He reached for a cigar from a box on his desk and lit it with shaking hands.

  ‘There is another way,’ Rose said as she watched him sucking on the cigar as if it were a teat. ‘You could go to Adele and tell her the truth. Ask her to break it off with Michael and beg her not tell him why. That way there will only be the three of us who know about it.’

  ‘Why can’t you tell her?’ he asked.

  ‘Because it would mean going back into her life,’ she said. ‘She went to live with my mother when I was ill many years ago. To go back for something like this would only cause her more pain.’

  Myles looked at her sharply. ‘Somehow I don’t think you are suggesting any of this to prevent anyone’s pain,’ he said. ‘What do you really want?’

  Rose riled up. ‘None of this would have come about if you’d been honest in the first place,’ she hissed at him. ‘You left me destitute in London with a baby in my belly. To avoid giving birth in the workhouse I had to marry a man I didn’t even like. You ruined my life, and it’s time you paid for that.’

  ‘Aha,’ he exclaimed, his eyes narrowing. ‘Now we’re getting to the real issue. It’s money you want, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ Rose said with a shrug. ‘I do. I want a thousand pounds.’

  ‘A thousand!’ he exclaimed.

  ‘You can afford it.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s only fifty pounds for every year of Adele’s life, I’m sure you’ve spent a great deal more than that on each of your other children.’

  ‘And if I refuse?’

  ‘Then I go to the papers with the whole sordid story. It’s up to you.’

  She fished in her handbag and pulled out a card from the restaurant she worked in. She put it on his desk with complete confidence. ‘You bring the cash to me there next Monday evening,’ she said. ‘I have already written down everything about you and me, and Adele’s birth, and given it to a friend to hold just in case anything happens to me, or Adele.’

  ‘What if she won’t keep quiet about it?’ he asked.

  Rose shrugged. ‘You’ll have to make it worth her while, won’t you?’

  ‘If I agree to this, what assurance do I get that you won’t ask for more later?’

  ‘You assured me you loved me,’ she reminded him. ‘I was naive enough in those days to think that meant you would never desert me. I might be many things, but I am not a blackmailer. I’m just asking for what’s owed to me for a ruined life. Just be glad I’m not about to ruin yours.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  Adele, with a group of other nurses, walked up the steps of the nurses’ home just after six in the evening. It was 15 February and the other girls had been teasing her about the Valentine she’d received from Michael the day before.

  He’d made it himself, a picture of a Spitfire with a tiny photograph of himself stuck in the cockpit. On a cloud in front of the plane was an equally tiny picture of Adele’s face, but he’d drawn her in an angel’s costume.

  ‘My head’s in the clouds since I first met you,’ the poem read.

  The sun is out and the skies are blue,

  You are my angel, the girl of my dreams,

  I spend all day dreaming up schemes,

  To carry you off to a wondrous place,

  To see you dressed in wedding lace.

  You are my Valentine for ever and a day.

  When can you next come out to play?

  Adele thought it was sweet and wonderful but the other nurses had been teasing her by saying that they hoped he flew planes better than he wrote poetry.

  ‘You’re all just jealous,’ Adele giggled, and when she saw Mr Doubleday the caretaker standing in the hallway looking stern, she playfully reached out and tweaked his cap down over his eyes.

  ‘Now then, Nurse Talbot,’ he said gruffly. ‘Enough of that horseplay. There’s a gentleman to see you. I’ve shown him into the sitting room.’

  ‘Is it Michael?’ she asked eagerly.

  ‘If Michael’s the fly-boy then it isn’t,’ Mr Doubleday said dryly. ‘And your cap’s on crooked.’

  Mystified, Adele opened the door of the sitting room and there to her shock sat Myles Bailey. ‘Good evening,’ she said politely, but a cold shudder went down her spine because she knew he hadn’t come all this way for a social call.

  ‘I need to talk to you, Adele,’ he said. ‘Is this room fairly private or can we expect hordes of other nurses t
o come in any minute?’

  ‘It’s only ever used for visitors,’ she said. ‘I doubt anyone else will come in now, everyone’s gone off to get changed and eat their supper.’

  ‘You look very nice in your uniform,’ he said, looking her up and down in a way she found most disconcerting. ‘How are your studies coming along?’

  Adele sat down opposite him. She was puzzled that he was being so nice, but she hoped it might be because he was coming round to her marrying Michael. ‘All right, I think, though it’s hard to swot up for the exams after a long day or night on the wards. It’s nearly two years now, only one more to go before I’m an SRN.’

  He cleared his throat and looked awkward and nervous.

  ‘Nothing’s happened to Michael, has it?’ she asked in alarm.

  ‘No, he’s fine as far as I know,’ he replied. ‘But I did come here to talk about him, and you.’ He gave a big sigh, and Adele’s heart leaped, sure he was about to bumble out some kind of apology.

  ‘This is a very delicate matter, Adele,’ he said. ‘It’s not something I ever expected to crop up, and it’s going to be hard for me to tell you about it.’

  Adele was confused now. He didn’t look as though he was struggling to word an apology, but his voice was too soft and hesitant for anger. Her heart sank again, for she sensed that whatever he had to say, it wasn’t going to please her.

  ‘You can’t marry Michael,’ he blurted out. ‘You are brother and sister.’

  Adele giggled. ‘Don’t be silly,’ she said.

  ‘I’m completely serious,’ he said reprovingly. ‘You see, it seems I am your father, Adele.’

  She could only stare at him in astonishment. It seemed like a joke, yet common sense told her it couldn’t be. Myles Bailey was a very serious man.

  ‘I had an, er…’ He paused and coughed, looking as though he wished the floor would open up and swallow him. ‘I once had an affair with your mother.’

  Adele could only stare at him in disbelief, thinking he’d gone mad. ‘No, Mr Bailey,’ she finally managed to get out. ‘My mother doesn’t live anywhere near here. You don’t know her.’

  ‘I do, Adele, or at least I did twenty years ago. I met Rose in Rye when she worked at The George. She came away with me to London.’

  Adele was stunned. Her grandmother had once said she thought Rose had run off with a married man, but how could it be Mr Bailey? A travelling salesman, a soldier or sailor maybe, but not a pompous lawyer with thinning hair and a red face!

  ‘No, that can’t be right,’ she insisted, yet a small voice inside her was telling her that no man would admit such a thing unless it were true.

  She got a vivid mental picture of herself in bed with Michael and a creeping, prickling sensation ran up her spine. ‘This is some desperate measure to try and split Michael and me up, isn’t it?’ she said indignantly. ‘How could you!’

  ‘No, Adele, it’s not,’ he said. ‘We may have got off on the wrong foot, but do you really think I would cook up a story like that? I’m a lawyer, for goodness’ sake!’

  ‘What difference does that make?’ she hissed at him. ‘Two years ago you slapped me round the face and threw me out in the rain. I dare say most people would say a lawyer wouldn’t do that either.’

  ‘I regret that now,’ he said, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. ‘I was under a great deal of strain at the time, and of course I had no idea who you were then.’

  Adele suddenly remembered that her grandmother had been to see him on Christmas Day and came back with a reference and ten pounds.

  ‘Is that when you found out who my mother was?’ she asked, her voice rising with anger. ‘You’ve known I was your bastard for two years, but you said nothing, even when you knew Michael was still seeing me? What sort of a man are you?’

  ‘Now look here, young lady,’ he said in his more customary sharp manner. ‘I only found out about this myself a few days ago, when Rose came to my chambers in London and told me.’

  ‘She came to you when she’s ignored me for years?’ Adele’s voice rose even higher and she jumped to her feet.

  ‘She felt she had to do something when she read about your engagement,’ he said quickly. ‘She was right of course. We couldn’t just ignore it.’

  Adele’s head was reeling. It was too big a shock to take in. She swallowed hard, gritted her teeth and took a big breath. ‘How do we know she’s telling the truth?’

  ‘I, eh, knew she was pregnant when I left her,’ he admitted hesitantly. ‘Not very gallant of me I know, but there were good reasons.’

  All at once, without any further details, Adele realized he was speaking the truth, however odious it was. She walked over to the window and stared out at the garden below. In its winter drabness it looked as cold and desolate as she felt. She remembered then how that night in London Michael had said he was sure her father came out of the top drawer. What was he going to say when he discovered they shared that same ‘top drawer’ father?

  ‘Have you told Michael yet?’ she asked, not turning to look at him because her eyes were brimming with tears.

  ‘I can’t,’ he said.

  Adele turned to him, and saw his eyes were pleading with her. It was only then that she noticed with disgust that they were just like hers.

  ‘You can’t tell him!’ she exploded. ‘Whose bloody fault is it? Yours!’

  ‘I know,’ he agreed, making a plaintive gesture with his hands. ‘But if I tell Michael it will start something I won’t be able to stop. The whole family will be disgraced. Please don’t ask me to upset so many people, Adele.’

  She looked at him coldly. She had tried to imagine her real father so many times, but Myles Bailey was the last man on earth she would want it to be. He was a bully, a crashing snob, and now she knew he was a philanderer who abandoned pregnant women.

  ‘I get it,’ she said, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at him. ‘You want me just to disappear out of Michael’s life, that’s it, isn’t it? The easy way out for you, no one need ever know apart from you, me and my bloody mother.’

  ‘If you tell Michael the truth it will damage him,’ Myles pleaded. ‘I know what he’s like, he’s sensitive like his mother and he’ll just withdraw into himself. He has a career he loves, he couldn’t fly if he knew the girl he wanted to marry and make love to was his sister.’

  Adele knew that much was true. The thought of what they’d done made her feel sick now, and she was sure Michael would feel even worse.

  ‘Get out of here,’ she said, pointing to the door. ‘I can’t bear to be in the same room as you. You and Rose should have stayed together – my God, you’d make an ideal couple with your weakness and lies.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ he asked in alarm.

  ‘I’m going upstairs to be sick,’ she shouted at him. ‘Because I’ve just found out I was born to the worst parents in the world and I can’t have the man I love. Are you satisfied?’

  ‘Don’t tell Michael, for pity’s sake,’ he pleaded.

  ‘Get out,’ she shouted again. ‘I’ll decide all by myself what I’m going to do. You aren’t going to bully me.’

  He had to go then. The door was half glass and the caretaker was outside, looking to see what all the noise was about.

  Myles scuttled away like a frightened rabbit, leaving Adele red in the face and fit to burst with rage.

  It was fortunate that Angela, her room-mate, had got a couple of days off and gone home to her family, for Adele was in no mood to speak to anyone, or to be seen. Once inside the room she locked the door, and collapsed on to her bed sobbing.

  Michael was her everything, and if he was taken from her there was absolutely nothing left. But it was worse than that – even the beautiful memories of him were dirty now.

  She was sick in the washbasin over and over again until there was nothing left but bile to come up. She pulled off her uniform, leaving it crumpled on the floor, and crawled into bed in her underwear. Beyond her
door she could hear all the usual laughter and chatter, nurses borrowing one another’s clothes to go out, others asking if the bathroom was free, and someone pleading for them to be quiet so she could study. They were her friends, girls she thought she could talk to about anything, but she couldn’t tell them this. She couldn’t tell anyone.

  It was reminiscent of when she was a child going to school with bruising from the stick her mother had taken to her. She had to hide that away too because it was shameful. And then there was Mr Makepeace, she had to hide what he did too, and that her mother had been taken to an asylum. Why was it always she who had to hide other people’s wrongdoing?

  Yet she knew she must hide this. Not to save Myles Bailey any embarrassment – he could burn in hell along with her mother for all she cared. But she would hide it from Michael. This was something he wouldn’t be able to deal with. It would destroy him.

  But what should she do? She certainly couldn’t see Michael face to face and lie to him, he’d know immediately that something was wrong. She couldn’t even speak to him on the telephone as just the sound of his voice would make her break down. Yet if she simply hid away he’d keep coming down here and make a nuisance of himself. He would never let her go without a very good reason.

  The following morning Adele made her way to Matron’s office. She had dark circles under her eyes from a sleepless night, she still felt sick and she knew she was unable to work on the ward today. But she’d dressed in her uniform to stop any of the other girls questioning her.

  ‘Come in,’ Matron’s voice boomed out at the tap on the door.

  Adele slunk in and closed the door behind her. Matron was a formidable woman, around fifty, tall and thin with an aristocratic bearing and manner.

  ‘Yes, Nurse Talbot,’ she said.

  ‘I can’t work here any more,’ Adele burst out. ‘I have to leave.’

  Matron looked at her sharply. ‘Are you pregnant?’ she asked.