A Collar of Jewels

by Pamela Pope

  The embroidered cord for summoning room service was within her grasp but he prevented her from reaching it. Her voice rose higher as she cursed him. It was then that someone knocked loudly on the door.

  ‘Ellie, are you all right?’ It was Devlin. He tried the handle. ‘Ellie, let me in.’

  ‘Get rid of him,’ hissed Julian, going white with anger and fear of discovery.

  She took the key from him, straightening up with renewed dignity, her eyes flashing. ‘If you try to hide you’ll be shouting your guilt,’ she said, unlocking the door. Devlin almost fell inside. ‘It’s all right, Oliver. Julian came to my rescue. There was a mouse running around and I was so scared I didn’t know what to do.’

  Julian composed himself and walked out. ‘Good night, Ellie. I trust there’ll be no more vermin troubling you tonight.’

  ‘Not now you’ve left there won’t be,’ Devlin said.

  He passed the Irishman without a word and went along to his own suite where Millicent was waiting at the door wrapped from throat to ankles in a blue silk robe. She too had been worried by the commotion. He pacified her and guided her back inside, but before following he was compelled to look over his shoulder. There was no one in sight along the length of the luxuriously carpeted corridor.

  Devlin must have gone into Ellie’s room.

  *

  It should have been memories of the pomp and pageantry in London which remained in Ellie’s mind, but instead she found herself unable to forget the night Julian had tried to seduce her.

  The family returned home on 23 June, a day earlier than planned, much to the children’s disappointment. Julian was silent, Millicent was irritable because she had wanted to shop for souvenirs, and Oliver wouldn’t let Ellie out of his sight. The atmosphere was so tense in the railway carriage that Ellie suffered with a headache and had to stand in the corridor by an open window because Millicent refused to let in a breath of air for fear of a draught.

  She wished she hadn’t raised her voice enough to alert Oliver last night. She was confident she could have got rid of Julian without all the fuss, and then there would have been no need for Oliver’s suffocating protection. It was kind of him, of course, and she appreciated it, but she was not the helpless, wilting type who had to be cosseted, and his worrying irritated her. It had taken all her powers of persuasion to stop him from storming after Julian and creating a scandalous scene in the hotel, and the only way to dowse his fiery Irish temper had been to insist on the innocence of Julian’s late visit to her room. Whether he finally believed her or not, she didn’t care. She resolved to keep all men at arm’s length in future, mindful to avoid every word and action which could be misconstrued.

  Oh yes, she admitted inwardly that she was partly to blame for Julian’s behaviour, but it would never happen again. She fingered the bruise on her lip which she claimed had been caused by falling against the wardrobe in fright when she saw the mouse. If anything good had come out of the experience it was the fact that she was cured of being physically attracted to her mother’s brother. Julian’s intimate touch had been repulsive.

  It was good to be with William again. She had missed him so much. At three years old he was of above average intelligence and could hold a reasonable conversation, perhaps because she spent so much time with him. When he flung himself into her arms she held his little body against hers with a rush of love which threatened to swamp her, and he cried out to be released.

  ‘Mrs Hovringham said you wouldn’t be back till tomorrow,’ he said.

  ‘And now I’m back today. Are you pleased?’

  ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ He jumped up and down with excitement. ‘When are we going to see the ships?’

  ‘On Saturday.’ She had promised to take him to see the Naval Review at Spithead, for which ships of every nation, and in particular the British Fleet, were already gathering. It was going to be the most wonderful naval spectacle ever seen, and William had been cutting out ship pictures with Nanny Simmons to paste in his scrapbook.

  On Thursday and Friday things seemed to have returned to normal. Julian visited her in the draughtsmen’s office to discuss a possible new contract following on from the Ezbanian success, and he was coolly businesslike. Oliver, too, was less intrusive. It was almost as if the excursion to London had not taken place, and Ellie settled down at her drawing board with an easier mind than she’d had for weeks.

  It was the lull before a storm.

  Saturday 26 June dawned fine but cloudy and Ellie set off for Southsea early with William and Grandfather Cromer in a carriage drawn by two black horses which wore plumes of red, white and blue. It had been loaned by Julian, who had also reserved seats for them in a stand on the sea-front so that they could see the Royal yacht pass between the lines. Ellie had been tempted to refuse both offers, but it would have been churlish when the arrangements were partly for her grandfather’s benefit. Sir Robert was suffering with rheumatic pains which limited him.

  Had it not been for William’s promised treat, Ellie would have preferred not to be going to Southsea at all. There had been an incident outside the West Quay Tavern the evening before, between men from Court Carriages and a group of their Eastleigh rivals who had travelled to Southampton for the evening expressly to cause trouble. Oliver, whose plebeian origin often made him gravitate towards the waterfront bars, had unfortunately become involved. His fiery Irish temper had been roused by accusations of wage-cutting to finance luxury travel for the nobility in countries where peasants were fighting for crusts of bread. The implication that Court Carriage men were traitors to the working class had so incensed Oliver that he had joined in the scuffle, ending up with a bruised hand.

  Ellie saw him on the Saturday morning before setting out for Southsea, and she touched the area round the bruise with caring fingers.

  ‘Don’t ever do that again, Oliver. I can’t bear it,’ she said — then hastily made the remark more general, lest he took it to be exceptional concern for his own safety. ‘If any thing like the Pullman strike started here I’d be terrified.’

  ‘Don’t worry, it won’t,’ he said. ‘And I’ll mend my ways. I’ve a meeting with Julian later today which’ll change a few things. It’s an important man you’re looking at, mavourneen, so it is.’

  She was intrigued, but he wouldn’t tell her more. In spite of his optimism, though, she couldn’t shake off a feeling of impending disaster, or some new upheaval in her life. It stayed with her all day, spoiling her enjoyment, and she wished she hadn’t seen Oliver that morning.

  The streets of Portsmouth through which they passed overflowed with blue-jacketed sailors and uniformed men from foreign ships. Thousands of people lined Southsea beach and the sea-front.

  The viewing place reserved for Ellie and Grandfather Cromer gave the best possible land view of the four lines of ships stretching away into the distance. One hundred and sixty-five ships of the Royal Navy rode at anchor through Spithead, while innumerable merchantmen and pleasure craft decked with pennants and bunting were dotted on the water for as far as the eye could see.

  ‘Why can’t we go on a boat?’ William wanted to know.

  ‘Because I can’t walk up the gangway,’ said Grandfather.

  Undaunted, William said: ‘We could leave you here.’

  At exactly two o’clock the lines were cleared and a salute from guns onshore proclaimed that the Royal yacht Victoria and Albert had set out with the Prince of Wales on board to carry out the inspection of the fleet. In its wake came other yachts carrying royal guests, but Ellie couldn’t tell William any of their names. She was still preoccupied, still ridiculously on edge, and when a threatening storm finally broke over them just as the Prince of Wales had returned to harbour, she welcomed it as the reason for her tension. She had never liked storms.

  They all got a soaking as the rain continued.

  ‘We must get back to the carriage and return home,’ she said, fearing for her grandfather’s heath.
/>
  ‘Damned weather,’ the old man grumbled.

  And William indulged in a tantrum. ‘I want to see the boats light up! I don’t want to go home!’

  She had said they could stay a short time after dark when every ship would be illuminated, but that would not be for several hours yet, and her anxiety was growing.

  ‘I’m sorry, William. You can go to the top of the house when we get back and perhaps you’ll be able to see some of the lights in the distance. There’s such a lot of ships. I’m sure the line must stretch nearly as far as Southampton.’

  She didn’t know what she expected to find when she returned: there was just this overwhelming apprehension which sat in the pit of her stomach and made her feel every jolt of the carriage-wheels on the return journey. Dreadful pictures of the Works going up in flames crossed her mind. Others of Oliver in danger made her realise how deeply she held him in her affection. Thankfully, not one of her terrible imaginings materialised.

  However, something of equal gravity awaited her.

  She was surprised when Annie Hovringham came to the door of their house in The Polygon as soon as the carriage pulled up. The woman was agitated and approached Ellie the moment she had been helped down.

  ‘I’m so glad you’re back. In your absence I tried to speak to Mr Devlin on the telephone but he’s at a meeting with Mr Cromer so I’ve had to leave the gentleman without anyone to entertain him.’

  ‘Who is it, Mrs Hovringham? What’s happened?’ The spirals of fear in Ellie’s stomach became taut springs which almost stopped her heart.

  ‘Your husband’s here, Mrs Berman,’ Annie said.

  Sixteen

  He was standing by the fireplace in the drawing room, his handsome head reflected in the heavy gilt-edged mirror so that she saw him twice over. Once was too much. She wouldn’t have returned home, had she known he was here. His presence caused her excruciating pain and she thought she was going to faint, but the feeling passed.

  ‘Ellie,’ he said, her name uttered part in greeting and part question as he anticipated her reaction. He looked forbidding. Where were the humility and guilt she had every right to expect?

  ‘Why have you come?’ she demanded. Her voice didn’t sound like her own.

  ‘We have thinks to talk about.’

  ‘I’m amazed you have the gall to face me. What can we possibly have to talk about?’

  He moved. She flinched, and her legs felt as if they belonged to a rag doll, but she resisted the temptation to back away.

  ‘It’s all right, Ellie, I’m not going to touch you.’

  She had to pull herself together, otherwise he would be in control. He already had supremacy by virtue of his totally unexpected arrival. She straightened her back, pulled in her stomach to ease its surging, and stretched her neck like a swan about to challenge an enemy.

  ‘Had I been here when you came, you wouldn’t have got past the front door,’ she said. ‘After what you did to me I ought to call the police.’

  ‘I’m not proud of deserting you. It was the most cowardly thing I’ve ever done. But you’ve had your revenge, haven’t you, Ellie? If we’re talking about bringing in the law let me tell you I ought to consider charging you with stealing my designs. Oh yes, I saw reports of the Ezbanian train. Did you think I would never know?’

  Her cheeks were very pale. How dare he condemn her for anything when she was the one with legitimate grievances! The Ezbanian train was the least important issue.

  ‘Is that why you’ve come all this way? To accuse me! Really, Max, your hypocrisy astounds me.’

  ‘I came to see you, and our son. And I want to see Oliver, if you know where he’s living.’

  ‘Oliver? Why Oliver?’ She was incensed. He showed not the slightest sign of diffidence. ‘It was obviously too much to expect that you might have repented of your sins.’

  His manner softened. ‘I’ve repented and I’ve suffered, Ellie, believe me. It wasn’t easy to come here, but Poppa made me see that the wrong I did you must be faced, otherwise there will be no peace for either of us.’

  ‘You want me to absolve you, is that it? Never! What you did to me deserves only that you rot in hell.’

  ‘I know that. Reckon I’ve been there since the moment I realised I couldn’t get back to you when the ship sailed.’

  ‘I’ve put you out of my mind and out of my life,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to hear how you felt. You killed me, Max. You left me empty of every thing except hatred. But now I’ve built a new life and you will never be a part of it.’

  He looked down at the carpet where the Turkish pattern was a complexity on a par with the complications in their marriage. ‘There aren’t enough words to tell you how sorry I am.’

  ‘And if there were, I still wouldn’t want to hear them.’

  ‘Then for now I’ll change the subject. My father is dead and I need to see Oliver because he should accept responsibility for his child.’

  ‘Oh!’ She was speechless.

  ‘My mother is too old and infirm to continue looking after Galina —’

  ‘How can you even talk of responsibility when you provide nothing for our child?’

  ‘My letters set down in detail how I planned to support William — but how could I do anything without knowing where you were? I explained it all. I poured my heart out to you, Ellie! Were you not the slightest bit moved? Had you no understanding?’

  ‘I didn’t read your letters.’

  ‘And you didn’t let me have your address after you left London.’

  She had forgotten how keen his eyes were. They scrutinised her deeply, his unblinking gaze not leaving her face for an instant.

  He was dressed sombrely but well, his black serge jacket edged with silk on the lapels, and his high collar touching the lobes of his ears. A pearl-headed pin kept his tie in place. No doubt he had used her money to his own good advantage. His black hair was still worn quite long, but it was carefully groomed. His hands with their tapering fingers were not those of a labourer, and she couldn’t help remembering how exquisitely he had used them in the past to caress her. She drew a sharp breath as an old familiar weakness had to be curbed. Her mind rejected him, but her body was fickle.

  ‘I wanted nothing to do with you,’ she said. ‘You took everything I gave you and threw it back in my face.’

  ‘I was blind.’

  ‘And deaf, and completely insensitive. You’re a thief, Max, a common thief and I —’

  ‘Now just wait a minute —’

  ‘Please leave.’

  Grandfather Cromer came into the room, stooped and hawk-like, but a powerful presence. ‘What’s going on? Ellie, do you want help to get rid of him?’

  She let out a sob of despair. ‘No, Grandfather. Max is just going.’

  ‘I’ll not go until I’ve seen my son,’ said Max. ‘Where is William?’

  Ellie had packed the boy off in Julian’s carriage with Nanny Simmons on its return journey to Fortune Cottage, with a request that he might stay until she was able to collect him later. She’d been petrified in case Max planned to kidnap him.

  ‘You left us,’ she cried. ‘You denied yourself the right to see him.’

  ‘He is my flesh and blood.’

  Grandfather Cromer thumped the floor with his stick. ‘Procreation carries no guarantee,’ he blared. ‘We earn our rights, young man, and from what I’ve heard you deserve none. You discarded the finest jewel in the world when you deserted my grand-daughter. There’s no one finer, or kinder, or more warmhearted than Ellie, but you were too wicked to see it.’

  A shadow clouded Max’s face. He bowed his head and closed his eyes momentarily, as if pain blurred his vision.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Ellie.’ His voice throbbed with remorse. ‘I wish you’d read my letters. I’m not good at saying how I feel. I was too proud and too heedless to appreciate you until after I’d behaved with the ultimate stupidity. I’m not asking
you to forgive me yet. All I want right now is to see our son.’

  ‘He’s not here,’ she said.

  Grandfather held the door open. ‘And you’re not welcome.’

  The storm which had started in the afternoon had now passed over, and evening sunlight slanted through the long window. In the distance there was a sound like gunfire — more royal salutes, most likely, since it was too early yet for the celebratory fireworks.

  Max recovered his composure. ‘Very well. I won’t stay now, but I’ll come back when you’ve had time to consider my apologies. I’m sorry if I’ve caused you more pain.’

  He passed close to Ellie as he prepared to leave. She couldn’t wait for him to be out of the house so that she could indulge in a storm of private weeping, but there was another matter which had not been touched on, and she couldn’t let him think it too unimportant to bring out into the open.

  ‘Max! Where is my money? I suppose it would be ridiculous to suppose you intend returning it to me.’

  ‘Your money?’ he queried, with commendable surprise. He turned back.

  ‘I’m talking about my dowry which went with you to the States. How could you do it?’ Her tone was as bitter as aloes. It felt as if a festering wound had been lanced and further words spurted out like a poison released. ‘You left me with nothing — nothing! I was destitute, Max, alone with a baby, wet and cold and penniless, while you took off with my fortune …’

  ‘Now wait!’ He stopped her. ‘I took nothing except the clothes I was wearing. I was the one who was destitute.’

  ‘That’s a lie!’

  ‘I swear to you it isn’t. I’ve now got my own furniture business but I’ve achieved it without any help from you or your family. I wanted nothing of yours.’

  Grandfather Cromer closed the door so that the servants wouldn’t hear. Ellie stared at her husband.

  ‘What are you saying? I know you had it, otherwise I wouldn’t have been in such a terrible predicament. Do you think I imagined it?’

  ‘I think you’re out of your mind.’

  ‘It’s you who are the liar,’ stormed Grandfather. ‘Thief, wrecker …’