by Caro Fraser
Meg glanced warily in the direction of the house. ‘I don’t think we should.’
But Dan ignored this, taking her in his arms and kissing her. After a moment Meg broke away with a laugh. ‘Stop. We have to catch them up. It will look odd otherwise.’ They began to walk back through the woods, happy just to be together.
*
Diana was standing on the terrace with Morven, who was now awake, as the others returned. ‘Well?’
‘It’s a quite magnificent structure,’ said Sonia. ‘You should go and see. Here, I’ll take Morven.’
Diana walked down the side of the tennis courts and met Max and Laura as they came running out of the woods.
‘Where’s Mummy?’ she asked Max.
He pointed behind him. ‘She’s at the den.’
Diana stepped into the shadows of the trees and walked a little way in. She stopped when she saw Meg and Dan coming towards her. They hadn’t seen her, and were walking close together, talking. The intimacy was unmistakable. Since coming to live at Hazelhurst, Diana couldn’t help noticing that Meg’s behaviour towards Paul was an odd mixture of artificial affection and dismissive irritability. As she watched now, she was struck by how different her manner was with Dan. She was relaxed and happy, glowing. He said something, and she turned and looked up at him, laughing, resting her hand lightly, briefly on his arm. It was the way Meg should be with Paul, but was not.
She took a step forward to make herself heard, and Dan and Meg looked up, startled. Meg took her hand from Dan’s arm.
‘I thought I’d come and see this famous den,’ said Diana.
‘It’s just back there, where the coppice is,’ said Dan. ‘Come on, I’ll show you.’
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ said Meg. ‘I should get back and make sure Max has a wash before tea. He’s filthy.’ She carried on towards the house.
Diana and Dan turned and went back into the wood. They walked a few yards in silence, then Diana observed with a smile, ‘It’s clear you’re still rather sweet on my sister-in-law.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘Oh, Dan, darling, I’ve always been able to read you like a book. Do be careful. She and Paul are going through a bit of a rough time, and she’s rather vulnerable.’
Dan turned and looked at her. ‘What are you suggesting?’
Diana shrugged. ‘Nothing. Nothing at all. I just don’t want my brother to be made unhappy.’ She turned and met his gaze. ‘Now, show me this remarkable den.’
*
On the journey back to Hazelhurst after tea, Helen and Lotte dozed in the back seat, while Max slept with his head in his grandmother’s lap.
‘Dan’s looking wonderfully well, don’t you think?’ remarked Diana. ‘Active service seems to suit him.’
‘You could say the same for Roddy. I think certain men actually thrive on the excitement of war. Well, some of them, anyway.’
They drove in silence for a while, then Diana remarked, ‘You know, I think Dan still has something of a crush on you.’
Meg’s face was imperturbable. Months of being deceitful had changed her, and a remark which would once have provoked fluster and embarrassment produced not the slightest ripple. ‘Do you think?’ she replied idly. ‘I suppose I should be flattered. But I’m afraid it’s simply that he’s an incorrigible flirt. Europe is probably littered with hearts he’s broken. Or no doubt he’d like to think it is.’ She changed gear as they crested a hill. ‘He is very charming, though. That never changes.’
Meg knew better than to look at her sister-in-law to see the effect of her words, but she hoped they were enough to allay the suspicions she detected. She had no idea how long Diana had been standing in the woods this afternoon, or what she’d seen. Nothing damning, Meg assumed, otherwise her manner would have been quite different. But she clearly was fishing for something.
2
A FEW WEEKS LATER, Diana was going through the morning mail at breakfast. ‘One for you, Meg.’
Meg took the letter, and recognised Constance Davenport’s handwriting. She opened it and scanned its contents as she finished her toast. ‘Constance is being sent overseas.’
‘I suppose they need all the doctors they can get,’ observed Diana, dabbing Morven’s mouth with her bib. ‘Can’t say I envy her.’
‘She sounds quite excited about it. She suggests I pop up and see her before she’s shipped out.’
‘I’m surprised how chummy you two have become,’ remarked Diana. ‘You never used to be, as kids.’
‘I always liked her more than you did. She’s very interesting, when you get to know her.’
Meg was mildly disgusted by her own hypocrisy. She didn’t care particularly for Constance – she had simply been a convenient excuse to go up to town when necessary. Where Dan was concerned, nothing else mattered – she would use anyone, or anything, to be with him. She returned the letter to its envelope, thinking that she would have to go to the village post office to see if there was anything from him. Constance had said in her letter she wasn’t going till the end of the month, so if by chance Dan was going to be in London on leave between now and then, she could make use of her for one last time.
‘Anybody need anything from the village?’ Meg asked the others. ‘I have to pop down and get some linctus for Max’s throat.’
‘Could you fetch me two reels of white cotton?’ said Helen. ‘We’re nearly out.’
Meg walked down to the village. She went into the chemist’s for Max’s linctus, then to the haberdasher’s, and lastly to the post office, where a letter from Dan was waiting.
She took the letter and pocketed it, and waited till she was outside the village before ripping it open. Dan was going overseas on some extended operation, and might be away for months, but he would be in London in a fortnight’s time on a week’s leave. Just in time for her to make one last visit to Constance.
*
There was no excuse for Meg to stay more than one night, so she and Dan would have to make the most of their time together. She arrived at Belgravia to find him busy unshrouding all the furniture in the drawing room.
‘I’m tired of camping here,’ he said. ‘This is going to be our home in the long run, so let’s start living in it properly.’ He folded up a dustsheet and added it to the pile on the carpet.
The truth of this had never occurred to Meg, and her heart gave a little jump at the thought that at some point she might leave Paul and come and live here with Dan. She tried to picture life in peacetime, Max having a bedroom here, the three of them being a family, but somehow it didn’t work. Belgravia was fixed in her mind as a house of clandestine shadows, of secret meetings.
Meg kissed him, and ran a hand over his unshaven chin. ‘I’m not seeing Constance till three, and then she’s got to be back at the hospital for her evening shift. We have two hours now, then the whole evening to ourselves.’
‘It’s lunchtime. Aren’t you hungry?’
She smiled. ‘It’s not food I want.’
He kissed her. ‘You are utterly shameless.’
*
Later they sat in the kitchen, eating a lunch of bread and cheese.
‘Sorry I didn’t have time to pick up anything more inventive,’ said Dan.
‘This is fine. We can have a meal this evening. Why don’t we splash out and go to a hotel? We could see a film, too.’ Meg relished the intimacy of being alone in the house in Belgravia with Dan, but she equally enjoyed the opportunity to pretend, if just for a few hours, that they were a normal couple doing normal things.
‘If you like. What time shall we meet?’ asked Dan.
‘Constance wants to spend the afternoon shopping – she has to get a few things before she goes abroad. Why don’t I meet you outside the cinema in Kensington High Street around five? There’s bound to be a decent film on.’
*
‘No point in going to Oxford Street,’ said Constance, when Meg met her outside her lodgings. ‘The bombs have made rathe
r a mess of John Lewis and Selfridges. But Kensington should be fine.’
Meg was struck by the ability of the city and its inhabitants to cope with and work around the carnage wrought by the German bombers. Everywhere there were yawning gaps where buildings had been obliterated, but shops which otherwise looked abandoned had the words BUSINESS AS USUAL painted on the boards replacing their blown-out windows, and their entrances shored up with sandbags. After a couple of hours of shopping, they went for tea in a Lyon’s Corner House.
‘You’ve been a brick to come and visit me so often,’ said Constance. ‘It’s been pretty lonely this past year. I haven’t made any friends among the nurses. They seem to resent the fact that I’m a doctor, and the male doctors – well, they’re men, aren’t they, and in their eyes I’m rather an oddball. Perhaps it’s my own fault. Mother says I’m too intense.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Meg. ‘How is your mother?’
‘Full of beans with her WVS work, rushing about organising everyone and everything, as I’m sure your aunt’s told you. She positively relishes the war. I’m going home to see her the weekend after next, on embarkation leave.’
‘Then the great adventure begins.’
‘Mmm.’ Constance glanced at the clock. ‘I say, it’s nearly five o’clock. What time’s your train?’
‘Oh, I decided to go back tomorrow. It’s a bit of a fag, making the trip here and back in one day, especially as one doesn’t always get a seat on the train. I’m staying at a hotel in Piccadilly.’
‘Well, how splendid! We can go out somewhere this evening.’
Meg felt a stab of dismay. ‘But what about your evening shift? You said in your letter you’d have to be back on duty at six.’
‘They cancelled it. They keep changing the rotas round. It’ll be nice to have some company. Evenings off are usually rather dull. I know – why don’t we go to the pictures? They’re showing The Little Foxes at the Majestic round the corner, and I know you love Bette Davis.’
Meg realised she was stuck. She could think of no reason or excuse why she and Constance shouldn’t spend the evening together. She did her best to smile. ‘What a good idea.’ She would just have to deal with Dan as best she could.
As they approached the cinema, Meg could see Dan waiting on the pavement, smoking a cigarette. She hoped he would play his part.
‘Why, it’s Dan Ranscombe!’ exclaimed Constance. ‘What a lovely coincidence. How are you?’
‘I’m very well, thanks. Good to see you. And you, Meg.’ He shot Meg a quizzical look. ‘As you say, quite a coincidence.’
‘You look very well,’ said Constance rather too enthusiastically, gazing admiringly at Dan’s uniform. ‘Are you on leave?’
‘Yes, just a few days.’
‘Are you waiting for someone? Meg and I are going to see the Bette Davis film.’
‘No. That is, I’m just sort of… killing time, as it were.’
‘Well, why don’t you join us? Three old friends together – what could be nicer?’
Dan caught Meg’s almost imperceptible nod, and hint of a smile. ‘Yes, why don’t I? Absolutely. Very jolly.’
They joined the queue, and Dan paid for three balcony seats. Constance was seated between Meg and Dan, and Meg was amused by how much attention Constance paid to Dan, whispering little remarks during the Pathé newsreel, touching his arm when she laughed at the cartoon. She didn’t speak to Meg once.
They emerged an hour and a half later. ‘Wasn’t that splendid?’ said Constance. ‘She’s so intense, Bette Davis. And infectious. I go around feeling like her for hours when I’ve seen one of her films. And doesn’t Herbert Marshall remind you of Paul, Meg? So dependable and good.’
‘I know what you mean,’ murmured Meg. It had seared her soul to watch the scene where Bette Davis’s character had poured her scorn on her poor, pathetic husband, to hear words uttered which might have been the echo of her own thoughts; ‘You were so kind and understanding, and I didn’t want you near me.’ Even a silly Hollywood film had the ability to wring her with guilt.
‘So, where now?’ said Constance. ‘I’m famished. I vote we all have dinner somewhere. Meg, are you hungry?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Dan?’
Dan caught Meg’s eye briefly. ‘I can’t think of anything better. Where would you like to go? A hotel? The Royal Garden’s not far from here.’
‘I’m afraid that’s rather too expensive for me,’ said Constance.
‘My treat,’ said Dan gallantly.
Meg had never seen Constance as talkative as she was that evening, and put it down to a combination of wine and her evident infatuation with Dan. She had certainly changed a good deal from the awkward girl of four years ago. In fact, Meg thought, she was becoming very much like her mother. Maybe Daphne Davenport had been shy and retiring once, though Meg couldn’t imagine it. She was remembering Constance as she was the year of the house party, when Constance suddenly said, ‘Do you remember that picnic we all went on in the summer of… what was it? Nineteen thirty-six?’
‘Funny, I was just thinking about that,’ said Meg.
Dan nodded. ‘I remember the weather. Ominously hot and still. Diana brought gin. Warm gin and cream cakes. And I recall there was a most terrific thunderstorm later.’
‘I’m trying to remember who came on the picnic. You two, and Paul and Diana, my mother and the Haddons, some old people whose names I forget…’
‘The Cunliffes,’ murmured Meg.
‘That’s right. And there was that serious young man – Charles someone.’
‘Charles Asher,’ said Dan. ‘I met him a year later out in Spain, a few months before he died.’
‘Oh, how sad.’ Constance gave a sigh. ‘What a different time it was, before the war. And what different people we all were.’ She put her head on one side and smiled at Meg. ‘I think you were rather sweet on Paul even then. Did you have the faintest inkling that you might marry him?’
Meg considered this. ‘Yes, I suppose I did.’ She looked up and met Dan’s gaze. ‘I always thought I might, even when I was a little girl.’ The frankness of her admission, and the folly it entailed, pained Dan.
‘That’s so romantic. Don’t you think so, Dan?’
‘Very.’
‘And still to be in love. Quite perfect.’
‘I say, shall we get the bill?’ said Meg. ‘It’s been a long day, and I feel quite exhausted.’
As they were leaving the restaurant, they were hailed from a nearby table by Guy Hitchens. He was in naval uniform, and was with his wife, Amy. For the first time that evening, Meg was grateful for the presence of Constance. Had she and Dan been alone together, she would have had sleepless nights in case word got back to Paul.
‘Do you know Constance Davenport?’ said Meg, by way of introduction.
‘I think we met at Diana’s wedding,’ said Amy, shaking her hand.
‘How lovely to see you again. The most marvellous coincidence – Meg and I were shopping, and we met Dan on the pavement, and so we whisked him off to the cinema and dinner.’
‘Lucky man,’ said Guy. ‘Won’t you join us for a drink?’
Fearful that Constance might be about to accept, Meg said hastily, ‘Thanks, but we can’t stay. I have an early train. Awfully nice, meeting you like this.’
They chatted for another moment, then left the hotel. Dan whistled up a cab and after a little negotiation and lying it was agreed they would drop Constance off first.
‘I have never,’ said Meg ten minutes later, as she waved to Constance from the taxi, ‘been so glad to see the back of anyone.’ She slumped against the seat. ‘Which is a wretched thing to say, because she’s a cleverer, nicer person than I’ll ever be, and she’s going to serve overseas. I feel horribly ashamed of myself. When I think of how I’ve used her over the past few months.’
Dan put his arm around her. ‘Don’t think about it. Think about me. Think about us.’ He kissed her all the way back
to Belgravia, and when they got inside the darkened house he carried her up to the bedroom and laid her on the bed. He closed the blackout and switched on a lamp, then sat down next to her on the bed and began slowly to undress her. He kissed her breasts, then her stomach, and she arched her back and let out a sigh of pleasure. Dan kicked off his shoes, unbuttoned his shirt, unbuckled his belt, and pulled off the rest of his clothes, then lay down next to her. ‘Delayed gratification. That’s one thing we can thank Constance for.’
*
A week later Paul returned from London. That evening after dinner he remarked, ‘I met Guy Hitchens while I was in town.’
‘What a coincidence. So did I,’ replied Meg, pleased by her presence of mind.
‘Yes, he mentioned that.’ Paul took out his tobacco pouch and began to fill his pipe.
‘Oh, Paul, your pipe smoke is quite beastly,’ said Diana. ‘For heaven’s sake have one of my cigarettes instead.’
Paul put his pipe away and took a cigarette. ‘He said he met you dining with Dan Ranscombe.’
‘And Constance Davenport.’
‘Really? He didn’t mention her.’
Meg, aware of Diana’s curious glance, replied swiftly, ‘Ask Amy, if you don’t believe me. She was there.’ As soon as she had uttered the words she realised how defensive they sounded. ‘Constance and I met Dan when we were out shopping. He was at a loose end so we all went to the cinema and had dinner together.’
‘It’s nearly nine o’clock,’ said Helen with a yawn. ‘I’d like to listen to the news on the wireless, if no one minds. Then there’s Tommy Handley.’
‘Yes, let’s decamp to the drawing room,’ said Diana, getting to her feet and ending the discussion.
But Meg was troubled by the exchange, and by the fact that Guy had made no mention of Constance, thereby undermining an alibi which she had regarded as secure. When she and Paul went to bed that night she said, ‘Why did you make such a point this evening about my having had dinner with Dan and Constance?’