by Mary Wood
It had been a shock when they had decided to tell Richard the truth about how he came to have a much older half-sister. The story angered every bone of his body. To hear of the rape of his mother, when just a young girl, and having her child taken from her – only to find her years later, and to have to face the shocking truth that her long-lost half-brother, Bert Armitage, and her daughter Megan had met and married, in ignorance of their relationship to each other – had been devastating to him. Added to that, the product of that marriage, Billy, born unwittingly of incest, had been inflicted with mental-health disturbances, resulting in him committing vile acts that had blighted all of their lives.
The tremble shaking his body and stippling his arms with goosebumps unsteadied Richard now. He thought he’d come to terms with it all. He was in his last year at university and was hoping to go to medical school, to become a surgeon one day; at the age of twenty-two, he should have been able to deal with it, but he couldn’t, not really. And now there was the possibility of that monster Billy gaining his freedom!
Sarah came into his mind: his fear for her and – yes, he had to admit – his longing for her. Despite the horror of the revelations concerning Megan’s birth, he’d been quite proud to find out, at the age of twelve and a half, that though he and Sarah weren’t blood relatives he was a step-uncle by marriage to her, and half-uncle to Billy, without being much older than them. But now those relationships meant very different things to him: he hated his nephew and was in love . . . No! He must stop thinking like this! Sarah belonged to Billy. Always had done and always would.
The sound of horses’ hooves from the direction of the lane that ran by their house caught his attention. Its rider – beautiful, raven-haired and elegantly side-saddled – called out to him. ‘Hey, Richard, are you all right?’
‘Yes, I’m fine. I’m just pondering things.’
‘Nothing too serious, I hope. You looked very downcast.’
‘I’ve had one of those envelopes! Have to report for a medical next week. Not looking forward to it, or to the interruption of my studies.’
‘Oh no! So soon? God – that nasty, moustached little . . . Oh, I don’t know, there doesn’t seem a name that would fit Hitler, or describe what I think of him. He’s going to spoil all of this. Us, and what we have.’
She dismounted and walked towards him. Her horse, held by the reins, pulled against her, poked its head over the gate and nudged Richard, knocking him backwards. The action made him laugh and gave him an excuse to try and get away. ‘He’s not happy at having his ride interrupted. I won’t keep you, Lucinda. I have to go in and break the news of my call-up to the parents. I’ve been avoiding doing so.’
‘Oh, don’t mind him. And you’re not stopping his exercise – he had that earlier. I rode over specifically to see if I could catch you. We have something to talk about, remember?’
Richard’s heart sank. Damn his stupidity for kissing Lucinda at the autumn ball! She’d been trying to snare him for ages, and would now read more into the kiss than there was. How was he going to get out of this?
Everyone seemed to assume they would marry one day. His mother had hinted at it, and his father had said he couldn’t do any better for himself. His parents and Lucinda’s, who were wealthy farmers, had been friends for as long as he could remember. He and Lucinda had grown up together. He’d never had feelings other than friendship for her, but even their own circle of friends seemed to take it for granted that one day he would formally court her. God, what a mess!
‘Well? Have you a moment to talk? I mean, Richard, we should sort things out. Even more so, with the possibility of you having to go to war.’
‘I – I know. Sorry, look, I – I acted very foolishly the other night. I didn’t mean to compromise our situation. But—’
‘But you do love me, don’t you? So why don’t you take it further?’
‘I can’t, and I don’t know. I mean, now isn’t the time. Our lives are going to change. Besides, I’m not of independent means.’
‘Which way around did you mean all of that, Richard? I hope you haven’t misled me? You must realize I can’t hang around much longer. This is very unfair on me. Surely we can make it official for now? Once you are my fiancé, well . . . well, we wouldn’t have to stand on ceremony. We could get a lot closer.’
The insinuation she put into this took him aback. ‘I can’t promise myself to anyone, Lucinda. I . . . Look, you’re right, we do need to talk. Are you free this evening? Perhaps we could drive out and find somewhere to have dinner where no one knows us, so we won’t be interrupted. A hotel in Northampton maybe?’
‘Yes, I would love that.’
‘I’ll arrange everything and pick you up at seven.’
Her body swayed towards him, her face upturned. There was nothing he could do, without embarrassing her, other than kiss her. He managed, though, to avoid her lips and peck her cheek instead.
As she rode away, Richard felt despair at the situation he’d created. Somehow, tonight, he had to find a way of letting Lucinda down gently. But how? Whatever I say, I’ll look like a cad. Maybe I am one. What kind of man falls in love with someone who’s practically a relative?
The shudder that went through him was a throwback to the horror of what had happened to his half-sister, Megan. But Sarah herself wasn’t related to him. He must remember that. She was the daughter of his half-sister’s husband. There would be nothing at all wrong with a union between them. If only it would happen . . . If only.
6
Hattie & Harry
The Past Rises to Taunt
Hattie stared at the newspaper. Shock dried her mouth and shook her body. Arthur’s wife dead! The paper became scrunched in her grip, before she dropped it to the ground. Why? Why does that news drum up old feelings? Feelings she’d thought long dead. Feelings that had belonged to a different person – the person she had been in those days.
The sound of the paper being gathered up caused her to turn round. Harry stood looking at her; she hadn’t heard him come into her office. His face held concern. ‘Is there something wrong, Hattie?’
Trying to keep her voice from shaking, she said, ‘No, nothing. I lost me thoughts for a mo. I were looking for that advert you mentioned. Someone selling a van? I think you’re right: we need to cover all angles, with this war. It could work – if we can’t get deliveries to the shop, we’d have to fetch our own stock. Then there’s that delivery service you were on about . . .’ She stopped, realizing she was rambling.
‘The advert wasn’t in The Times, love. Why you have that paper, even occasionally, is beyond me.’
‘I – I like to keep up. Get to know how the top-drawer lot are thinking. We have a few accounts with them lot, so it pays to know what they’re about.’
Harry didn’t say anything. As she took the paper from him, he left without even telling her why he’d come into her office. Without giving a thought to this, Hattie spread the newspaper out on her desk and found the obituary page once more:
The death of Lady Greystone, which took place in Kenya two months ago on 2nd September 1939, has shocked society. Lord and Lady Greystone had been on holiday in Kenya when Lady Greystone suffered a bite from an unknown insect. Within hours she was in hospital fighting for her life – a fight she lost at 10 p.m. that night. The body was interred in Kenya. Lord Greystone sailed into Southampton a week ago. He has announced that a memorial service will be held in three weeks’ time.
The article went on to give more information about Arthur: his First World War heroics, his injuries, and the mystery concerning where he’d disappeared to for all those years afterwards. It were no mystery to me, Hattie thought. The happiness of those years with Arthur was etched into her, and always would be, as was the pain of his leaving her.
A tap on her door and the sight of Megan entering made the pain resurface and clutch at her heart. Her eyes filled with tears.
‘Hattie, love?’
‘Oh, Meg, we went th
rough sommat, didn’t we? And, when we least think of it, it pops up to sting us again.’
‘Eeh, lass, what’s brought this on?’
Hattie pointed to the article.
‘It still hurts, after all this time then, Hattie, love? By, we thought Arthur different, didn’t we? Come on. It does no good thinking on it all now.’
‘I know, but I still love him.’
Neither of them saw Harry move back from the door.
‘I can understand that. It ain’t easy to fall out of love. Look at me: I loved Jack from the moment I saw him and it never went away, no matter that he chose Cissy. But it turned out right for me. And I thought it had done for you, love?’
‘It has. I’m being silly. It were seeing that article. It brings it all back. Anyroad, what brought you here in the middle of the day? Oh God, we had a meeting, didn’t we? Where’s Harry? He should be here.’
Something didn’t sit easily with Hattie. Harry had come because of the meeting and she hadn’t even acknowledged him.
The door opened. ‘Did someone mention my name, and in a tone that suggests I might have to take me slippers elsewhere tonight?’
‘Eeh, you daft ha’p’orth, Harry. You should have reminded me.’ Hattie couldn’t look at him. Panic rose within her. How long had he been outside?
Harry’s taking charge of the situation eased the atmosphere. Greeting Megan with a kiss, he quickly turned towards Hattie and took her arm. The squeeze he gave her was comforting, but at the same time compounded her worry that he had heard what she’d said. But he gave her no time to dwell on this. ‘Right, we best get on. Megan hasn’t got all day. I’ve organized some tea and cakes for us. I don’t know about you pair, but it seems a long time since breakfast.’
The air hung heavily between Hattie and Harry as they discussed the new line, looked at samples that Megan had brought with her and haggled over the price.
Concluding business, Harry stood up. Hattie felt his eyes bore deeply into hers. ‘Well, we’ve done well. It’s only just on three. Did you say you haven’t to go back to lock up your place, Megan?’
‘Aye, that’s right. Sally will see to things.’
‘Well then, if I see to things here, I don’t see why you two can’t take yourselves off for an hour. Have a bit of time together – go shopping or sommat.’
‘Shopping! Are you as daft as you look, Harry? We sell everything I’d want to buy!’
‘Go to that tea room down the road, then. That one as puts an extra “p” and “e” on the end of “shop”. It looks right posh. Or anywhere you fancy really, but have some time away from here and with Megan. It’ll do you both good. You’re never on your own together these days.’
The tea room lived up to being called ‘posh’, with its tables dressed in white lace cloths, adorned with little silver vases holding freshly cut flowers. The high-backed chairs were carved in a deep mahogany. The red carpet gave a soft tread, and the waitresses in their long grey skirts, white mob caps and white aprons reminded Hattie of her days in service, but added a touch of something special to the atmosphere.
After ordering, Hattie came straight to the point. ‘Harry knows. He heard us. Oh, Megan, whatever possessed me? It ain’t even how I feel. Not really. It just felt like it, when I saw Arthur’s name.’
‘Don’t worry about Harry, love. He’s always known your feelings. Happen he’d hoped he weren’t second best, but he ain’t as daft as you paint him.’
‘But it’s not true. It’s not . . . Anyroad, you look like you’ve sommat to share. Let’s forget my silly trip into the past. I’ll pour. Eeh, look at these silver teapots. Their spouts are that snooty-looking, it’s like they don’t want us to handle them.’
Giggling at this, and with the tea poured and them both tucking into cucumber sandwiches as if they hadn’t just had cake, or anything to eat for hours, Hattie felt better, though there was still the question of what was on Megan’s mind – as if she couldn’t guess.
‘Come on, then, out with it.’
‘It – it’s Sarah. And Billy. And, oh, I don’t know – the war . . . the possibilities of—’
‘Eeh, one thing at a time, love, eh? I know as sommat’s up with Sarah, as Sally told me. She’s reet worried for her. But, thou knows, it’s more than likely nerves over Billy coming out, and how it will be for them both. It can’t have been easy for the lass.’
‘Did Sally say as Sarah were sick at work?’
‘Aye, but don’t worry. No, you’re not on with thinking – she can’t be, Megan. How? When? No, she wouldn’t. She has some morals, has Sarah. She . . . no. Billy hasn’t—’
‘Aye, that thought had occurred to me, so don’t worry about saying it. He could, and he would. I have to face it.’
‘Oh no, it ain’t all starting again? You can’t let it, Meg, love. You can’t let Sarah go through what you did with Bert. Look, I know Billy’s your son and all, but no.’
‘I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know if I’m right. Oh, it’s a mess!’
‘Well, you have to find out. And if he . . . I’m sorry, Meg, I know you love Billy, and I know how it feels to do so, cos if it’s anything like what I feel for Sally – and her not even me own – then it’s painful. But if Billy’s done owt to Sarah, then you have to rise above that, for Sarah’s sake.’
‘I know, and I will. But first we have to be sure. D’yer think you could talk to her? I’ve tried, but she brushes me off or makes some excuse to take her leave of me. I thought maybe you could get Sally to invite Sarah over. Pretend she wants to talk about girls’ stuff.’
‘Aye, I will. I’ll find out for you, love. But if it’s right, what we’re thinking, promise me that’ll be an end to it.’
‘It will.’
‘Reet, what’s the other lot you lumped with this worry? It can’t be any worse, so we may as well clear it all.’
Megan echoed all the concerns Hattie herself had over what might happen in the coming months. But Hattie knew they were tripled for Megan, because she feared for the lives of Billy and of her half-brothers, Richard and Mark, and even for Jack. He’d been a soldier in the last war, and it wasn’t impossible they could call him up again.
‘I thought Jack had started to plough up most of his fields by the back end of October, in line with the government ordering that all spare land must be turned over to producing food for the nation?’
‘He has.’
‘Well then, putting himself down as a farmer will keep him out of the army. All farmers are exempt, as Britain needs food. There’ll be none getting in from abroad.’
‘Do you really think that will keep him out? I mean, Gary has had his papers; Jenny’s fraught with worry over it. As have all the other young lads who work in the stables. Jack’s saying he’ll have to close down the stables and get some Land Girls in to help him with the farming side. He needs to get a bit of money for the horses, though, as up to now he’s borrowed equipment from neighbouring farms, but he’ll need his own to hand.’
‘I don’t think you’ll have too many worries on that score. It’ll be survival of the fittest, and Jack were saying as he’s only a small cog in the racing world. There’s plenty as will keep their stables going and will take the stock Jack has. Now Billy, Richard and Mark – they’re a different story. It ain’t going to be easy for you, once they all get involved. But I’m here for you, love; we’ll get through it all somehow. It’ll take more than an upstart like that Hitler to beat us, Meg.’
Although Hattie made herself sound cheerful and managed to bring a smile to Megan’s face, she didn’t feel it. Her own insides were being churned up, and not just with what they might all have to face – or with the unthinkable having happened to Sarah. No, she’d felt demons rise up inside her, and she had to fight them. And no one could help her, not even Megan.
7
Terence
A Plan Thwarted
By the time Terence entered the dining room, his mother, father and sister wer
e already seated. ‘Sorry, I was delayed at the stables.’
‘Oh, that’s all right, my boy. Glad to see you doing something and enjoying it. Frobisher, will you serve now, please?’
‘Yes, m’Lord.’
Amidst the gentle clatter of cloches being removed from serving dishes, his mother asked, ‘So, what are you doing exactly, dear?’
‘A variety of jobs and, I must say, now I’m getting to know Jack Fellam, I’m finding him to be a jolly good sort. Never had time for the fellow before . . . Well, not that I knew him, but I felt a bit on the jealous side, what with his history, and how well he came out of it all. It—’
‘Terence, we won’t talk about that in front of the servants, if you don’t mind.’
‘Sorry, Pater. Just saying: he’s a decent chap, and very knowledgeable about the horses and the farming game. I’ve been helping out there, too. Learning a lot. Which brings me to something I want to discuss – maybe over brandy after dinner, Pater?’
‘Of course. Now, Daphne, my dear, what is it that you are worrying yourself about? Is it something you want to talk over with us all, while we dine?’
‘Not in terms of finding a solution, Charles. Well, not at this moment, but I am increasingly concerned about the number of staff receiving notice of their imminent call-up.’
‘Yes, I know. It’s the same with the farm manager and labourers. They are exempt, of course, but one by one they are saying they want to go anyway. Admirable, but it does pose problems that we need to address.’