The Hills and the Valley

by Janet Tanner

  ‘I do,’ he said.

  It was a beginning.

  Chapter Thirty

  Early in October Huw came home on leave – a few days only – and Barbara went over to Valley View to see him. Since Sir Richard and Lady Erica were away she had no excuses to make and she toyed with the idea of asking Huw to come to Hillsbridge House instead. It would be lovely to be able to entertain him in her own room and she liked the idea that his presence would be there even when he had gone. But the servants were still in residence and it would be all too easy to cause talk.

  October had come in wet and windy and although the trees were still mainly green, the first leaves had turned colour and begun fluttering down ill sad wet drifts. Beneath the lowering sky Hillsbridge looked grey and grimy and not even the bright berries in the hedgerows could do anything to dispel the depressing feel of winter just around the corner.

  It was too damp now and too cold to walk through the fields as they had done in summer, so when Hope had been settled in the kitchen with Mrs Milsom, who had promised to allow her to help with the baking, Barbara and Huw went into the drawing-room. The moment the door closed behind them they were in one another’s arms.

  ‘Oh Huw, you don’t know how I’ve been waiting for this!’

  ‘Come here. Don’t talk.’ His mouth was on hers, his arms squeezing her tightly, lifting her almost on tiptoe. They kissed with the fervour of reunion and almost at once the desire began to creep in, setting fire to her nerve endings, making her weak. His hands moved the length of her back, caressing, exploring; tucked in beneath the curve of her bottom to hold her close to him; then as one they moved to the couch. He sat down, pulling her down on top of him until they could bear it no longer and he pushed her gently back onto the hearth rug. Because she had known they would be using the room Mrs Milsom had lit a fire; it crackled comfortably, bathing them in flickering light.

  ‘She won’t come in, will she?’ Huw whispered and even his breath against her ear was erotic.

  ‘No. She has more sense.’ Then, as an afterthought, she said, ‘Perhaps we ought to lock the door just in case.’

  He got up and she lay languorously in the firelight while he crossed the room and turned the key in the lock. She watched him come back, loving every movement of his tall dark figure, stretching up her arms to him as he lowered himself beside her once more.

  ‘Oh Huw …’

  ‘I love you, Barbara.’

  ‘And I love you.’

  They were close again, closer than before, limbs entwining, bodies merging to one. Too soon it was over – it had been so long, so long! – and she pressed close against him still moving her body to the delicious contact, unwilling to give up the delight.

  After a few minutes he moved to look down at her.

  ‘We can’t go on like this.’

  She opened her eyes. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I love you, Barbara. I want you with me all the time. It’s not enough, snatching a few hours like this. The war is over now. I shall be getting a permanent posting somewhere. It may be in England, it may not. There’s no need for us to be separated any more. Wherever I’m sent, I want you with me.’

  ‘But Huw, it’s not just the war that’s been keeping us apart. Marcus …’

  ‘Damn Marcus.’

  ‘I have to stay with him. If I left him he might flip completely. Heaven knows what he would do. And there’s Hope to think of. We’ve been over all this before.’

  ‘I know we have. But it’s no answer. Don’t you want to be with me?’

  ‘Of course I do! You know I do! But …’

  ‘Then leave him. If he’ll divorce you we’ll be married. If he won’t… well, we’ll just have to cross that bridge when we get to it.’

  Panic was setting in, taking the place of passion.

  ‘Huw, I can’t! Maybe in a few years …’

  ‘In a few years we shall be old. We may even be dead. If this war has taught me one thing it’s about my own mortality. I’ve seen too many friends die – come too close to dying myself. We have to take what we have now while we’re young and strong. Tomorrow may be too late.’

  She was silent. He was right, of course. She felt the wasteland of her own life as a bleak emptiness deep within her. Only with Huw was she truly alive. Only with Huw could she ever be happy. But to abandon Marcus would be to take her happiness at his expense. She was not sure she could live like that. And it could mean losing Hope …

  ‘Well?’ he said. There was a new, hard note in his voice.

  ‘I don’t know. You’re rushing me.’

  ‘If I don’t rush you it will drag on this way for ever.’ He leaned over, pinioning her arms. ‘I’m not letting you go until you promise.’

  ‘I can’t promise.’

  ‘Then I shall just keep you here.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Huw,’ she said sharply. ‘You’re behaving like a child.’

  ‘You’re the one behaving like a child. Refusing to face up to life.’

  ‘I am not! I’ve explained and explained. I can’t make myself clearer. And will you please let go of my arm. You’re hurting me.’

  He released her and got up with an abrupt movement. She felt the ache of loss and with it a stab of fear. They had never quarrelled before. She hated it. But she couldn’t let him push her into something she would regret.

  ‘There’s no point talking to you in this mood,’ she said.

  ‘There’s no point talking to you at all. You’re so bloody stubborn. Just like your mother.’

  ‘Leave my mother out of this. After all she’s done for you, too.’

  They were all but shouting at one another now. A rattle at the door knob made them both start.

  ‘Mummy – Mummy, are you in there?’

  Barbara got up, straightening her clothing.

  ‘It’s Hope. Hush up, now. You’ll frighten her.’

  He caught her wrist. ‘Barbara …’

  ‘Let go! I must open the door and see what she wants.’

  ‘All right. But think about this. I’m not prepared to go on like this for ever, Barbara. If I can’t have you properly, show the world you’re mine, I’d rather not have you at all.’

  ‘Huw …’

  ‘I mean it. I’m serious. You’d better think about it – and think soon.’ He let go of her wrist. ‘Now open the door if you want to.’

  She stared at him for a moment, feeling tears gather in her throat. It was so unlike Huw, shouting at her, giving her ultimatums. It was horrible. The door knob rattled again.

  ‘Mum-mee!’

  ‘All right, Hope, I’m coming,’ she called.

  She opened the door. The child came in, wearing a little pinafore over her dress and with flour streaks on her nose.

  ‘What were you doing, Mummy? Why were you shouting?’ She broke off, sensing the atmosphere, looking from Barbara to Huw and back again. Barbara composed herself.

  ‘I wasn’t shouting, darling. Now, what’s the matter? Why do you want me?’

  Hope ran to her, wrapping her arms around Barbara’s legs.

  ‘Just want you!’ she piped. ‘Just want you, that’s all.’

  The tears thickened Barbara’s throat again as she looked down at the golden head, felt the small sticky hands clutching her legs. She couldn’t do anything to jeopardise Hope’s happiness. She simply could not. But Huw’s face was as set as before. He had no intention of giving in, she knew. Once Huw had made up his mind to something no power on earth would make him change it. And his mind was made up. He was going to force her to choose. Barbara faced the knowledge and went cold at the thought.

  One way or the other, it was up to her. She held the happiness of four people in her hands. And she did not know what to do.

  They played with Hope a little, they had lunch – delicious homemade oxtail soup and freshly baked bread – and because the weather had cleared a little they went for a walk, taking Hope with them in her pushchair. But the lovely magical
atmosphere had been spoiled and in desperation Barbara wondered if it could ever be the same again.

  By the end of the afternoon it was raining again.

  ‘I’d better take you and Hope home,’ Huw said. ‘I’m sure Amy won’t mind me using her car.’

  They folded up the pushchair and put it in the boot.

  ‘I must get my car back on the road again,’ Huw said. ‘If I’m going to be stationed in this country, anyway. If not I suppose it will be laid up indefinitely.’

  Like me, Barbara almost said, but did not. There was no point in making things worse than they already were.

  Hope sat on her lap in the front seat, laughing at the swish of the windscreen wipers and pointing out things they passed.

  ‘Look – man!’ as she saw a man on a bicycle, riding head down into the rain. ‘Dog-ee! Dog-ee!’

  ‘Yes, dog-ee,’ Barbara said patiently and felt that her voice was coming from somewhere near her boots.

  They turned into the drive of Hillsbridge House. The rain had brought down more leaves here; it seemed as if winter had come in just one day. To Barbara’s surprise Marcus’s car was parked in front of the house. He must have come home early.

  ‘It’s Marcus,’ she said, her voice bleak.

  Huw stopped the car, switched off the engine and turned to her.

  ‘Are you going to tell him?’

  Barbara glanced meaningfully at Hope. ‘Not now!’ she said through clenched teeth.

  ‘Well, it’s your decision now.’ His voice was hard. ‘I’ve said all I’m going to say on the subject.’

  He got out, opened the boot and carried the pushchair up the steps for her, depositing it just inside the front door. ‘Goodbye, Barbara.’

  ‘Will I see you tomorrow?’ she asked, frightened suddenly.

  He shrugged. ‘That’s up to you.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘I hope so.’ He caught her wrist, kissed her hard on the lips. She pulled away, looking round in panic.

  ‘Huw! You shouldn’t – not here!’

  His lips twisted slightly. ‘In that case it looks as though I’ve had my answer.’

  ‘Huw …’ But he was striding away towards the car. She checked the urge to run after him. He’s only trying to frighten me, she thought. He wouldn’t walk out on me. Not now …

  Wouldn’t he? came back the answer. Huw had a somewhat unpredictable streak. And in his own way he could be as stubborn as she was.

  The car was pulling away. She watched it go holding onto Hope’s hand. Hope was waving madly. ‘Bye-bye, Uncle Huw! Bye-bye …’

  ‘Come on, Hope,’ Barbara said sharply. They went in and she closed the door.

  For the moment, because of the gloom in the hall, she did not see him standing in the doorway. Then, as her eyes grew accustomed to the light, he seemed almost to materialise. Just standing and looking as he had stood and looked that other night beside the window.

  ‘Marcus – I didn’t see you,’ she said foolishly.

  ‘I’ll bet you didn’t.’ His voice was silky, but the undertones were unmistakeable. ‘That was Huw, I imagine.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I thought as much. What have you been doing with him?’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ she snapped, taking off Hope’s coat and going to walk past him.

  His hand shot out, grasping her arm. ‘What have you been doing?’.

  ‘What do you think I’ve been doing? Take your hand off my arm.’

  He ignored her request. ‘I don’t trust you with him. I don’t like the way you look at him. If you’ve been deceiving me …’

  Her chin shot up. ‘What if I have? The way you treat me it’s hardly surprising!’

  ‘You bitch!’ She felt his anger rising, that terrifying anger that turned him into a monster before her very eyes. She tried to pull away but he held her fast, dragging her in close so that his face was just a few inches from hers. ‘You bitch, I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t forget!’

  ‘Don’t touch me!’ she screamed.

  He threw open the drawing-room door, dragging her in, then hit her full in the face. She staggered back beneath the force of the blow and would have fallen but for the fact that he was still holding her. She sobbed with pain and fear and he hit her again so that the whole of her face was searing with pain and her head sung.

  ‘Bitch!’ He hit her yet again. Her knees gave way beneath her, she sagged to the floor and he was on top of her. As if from a long way off she could hear Hope crying and she struggled wildly. Dear God, surely he was not going to take her here, with Hope looking on! But she was weakened by his blows and his was the strength of a madman. Though she fought him all the way, she was helpless. Only at the last did she manage to get her nails to his face, scratching savagely at his cheeks and thrusting at him with her knees, but by then the pain and the frustration of losing her at the moment of his climax only maddened him further, so that he pushed her back, kneeling astride her like some insane animal.

  For a terror-struck moment she thought he was going to kill her. He grasped her by the hair, pounding her head against the floor. Hope was screaming now and her terrified wail brought Barbara back from the verge of unconsciousness. As his hands fastened round her throat she brought her knee up again and more by lucky chance than design caught him in the groin. He yelled, relaxing his hold of her, and somehow she managed to roll away. The heavy sofa connected with her singing head. She grabbed the arm of it and hauled herself up. Marcus was still rolling on the floor holding himself. Fear lent strength to her shaking legs. She ran to Hope, scooping her up with the child’s face turned into her.

  ‘That’s it!’ she cried. ‘I’m leaving you, Marcus. I warned you. I’m going now and I’m taking Hope with me.’

  She ran out of the room, Hope in her arms, and up the broad staircase. The suitcases were stored in a cupboard at the head of the stairs; she jerked one out and another fell clattering to the floor. She left it there, took the other into Hope’s room and began throwing clothes into it. Hope whimpered beside her.

  ‘It’s all right, it’s all right!’ Barbara reassured her, but still the child cried and her anger grew to fury. What he did to her was one thing. But to do it in front of a child …

  I’m taking her away from here, Barbara thought, and if he tries to stop me I’ll tell everyone the reason. They can employ the fanciest lawyer in Bath but he won’t stop me telling the truth about Marcus. Not now. Oh, not now …

  Hope sobbed again, her small face contorted, her eyes wide. ‘Da-da!’

  ‘Hope don’t!’ Barbara begged. Then, a thrill of fear turned her spine to water and she swung round.

  Marcus was in the doorway, holding his service revolver. The shock of it ran through her in waves yet suddenly she was icy cool.

  ‘Put that thing down,’ she said.

  He took a step into the room. The gun was pointing directly at her.

  ‘You’re not leaving me, Barbara. I’ll kill you first.’

  ‘Don’t be so silly,’ she said.

  She heard the click as the safety catch came off.

  ‘I mean it, Barbara. He shan’t have you. I won’t let him. I’m going to kill you.’

  Dear God, he means it! she thought.

  She caught Hope’s dress, gave her a little push towards the door.

  ‘Go downstairs, Hope,’ she said. Although she was shaking, her voice was very level. ‘Go on, quickly now!’.

  The child hesitated, ran to the door, looked at her father in terror then darted back to Barbara, burying her face in her skirt and sobbing.

  ‘I’m going to kill you both,’ he said.

  The revolver moved slightly in his hand. She stared at it mesmerised, holding tightly to Hope’s small shaking body. From somewhere downstairs she heard the sound of a door slamming and a voice – Huw’s voice – called: ‘Barbara – are you there?’

  ‘Huw!’ she screamed.

  She heard him running up the stairs, saw th
e expression on Marcus’s face and thought it was all over. She held her breath, bracing herself for the bullet. It did not come. Instead, Marcus leaped into the room but before she could move he was behind her, one arm folded tightly around her throat, the gun muzzle pressed against her temple.

  Huw was in the doorway. Though her head was strained back she could see him, see his rushed approach and the sudden stop as he took in what was happening in the room. He stood like a statue, bracing himself against the door jamb, his face momentarily frozen in an expression of shock and horror.

  Marcus spoke, ‘Stay there, James. Another step and I’ll kill her.’

  Huw eased himself upright, the tension making him move like a cat.

  ‘Don’t be a fool, Spindler.’

  Marcus laughed, a high-pitched unhinged sound.

  ‘I mean it. She’s my wife. My wife, do you hear? You won’t have her, I’ll see to that.’

  Barbara tried to speak, tried to say ‘He means it, Huw!’ and could not. The pressure of his arm around her throat was cutting off breath and in any case she thought she was beyond words.

  ‘Look, Spindler, this isn’t doing anyone any good.’ Huw’s voice was deliberately level now, though the same tension that was holding his body like a tight-coiled spring was there in the air. ‘Put that gun down and let’s talk about this sensibly. No one wants to hurt you. No one wants to upset you. We just want to help.’

  ‘Get out and leave my wife alone!’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere while you’ve got that gun on her and you might as well realise that. Put it down, man, for God’s sake!’ Sweat was trickling down Huw’s face but he did not dare wipe it away for fear that the movement might trigger Marcus into doing something terrible.

  ‘Get out of here, James, and leave us alone!’

  Realising he was getting nowhere Huw tried a new tack.

  ‘What’s the matter with you, man? What are you so worked up about?’

  ‘You and her. You think I don’t know? I’ll kill her before you shall have her. I will!’ He was sounding like a gramophone record with the needle stuck in a groove, unable to think of anything but his insane jealousy and the blackness that threatened to split his head wide open.