by Mary Wood
Again the sob. Her heart felt as though it would break. ‘I’m sorry, my darling. I wish I could change that, but somehow we’ll get through it. I’ll be there for you. I’ll be your eyes.’
‘W – will you, Sal? You won’t—’
‘Don’t even say it, Mark, let alone think it. I will be with you forever. I love you. In fact, I know it ain’t the conventional way, as you’re s’posed to ask me and be on bended knee an’ all, but, Mark, will you marry me?’
The sob became a full-blown crying from depths she never thought to hear from him. Fear gripped her. Someone took the phone from him and said to her, ‘I’m sorry, but he is too overcome, and this is dangerous for him. I’ll have to end the call.’
‘No,’ Mark screamed from the background. ‘I – they’re happy tears. Please.’
‘Well, calm down and I will, but if this sets you back,’ the voice droned on. A caring voice, that of a man who wanted the best for Mark. She could hear that in his tone.
‘It – it won’t. My girl h – has just asked m – me to m – marry her!’
‘Oh, right, love.’ The male voice again. It became louder and said, ‘The answer is yes,’ then faded again. ‘There, I’ve told her for you. Anything else?’
The sound of Mark laughing lifted Sally and filled her with joy.
‘Oh, and I’m going to be the bridesmaid!’ This was the male voice again, said in an effeminate voice, and had her laughing out loud. By, whoever it was with Mark, he was a tonic.
‘G – give me the phone.’
‘Only if you promise no more crying, right?’
‘Oh, Sally, sorry, l – love. The answer is yes! Th – thank you, thank you.’
‘Reet, we’ll fix it up. I’ll be down to see you as soon as I can. Tomorrow. I have a few days’ leave. I’ll get the first train. I’ll stop off to buy you a ring, seeing as I did the asking. You can get mine when you are well enough.’
‘I will, my darling, I will. G – give—’
‘Don’t speak any more, sweetheart. I can hear you are exhausted. I know what you want to say: congratulations and love to Richard and Sarah, love to your mam and dad and everyone. Tell them you’re looking forward to seeing – being with – them soon, and that you love me beyond anything! There, will that do?’
‘Yes. Yes.’
The sob came again, but then she’d to expect that. No one could go through what Mark had been through without it nearly crushing them. She was to be his strength. He loved her. He was going to marry her, and that was all that mattered. Her world was complete. He managed another ‘Goodbye, and I love you.’ The last was all she needed.
The day had been perfect, made even more so by the phone call from Mark, and Sally announcing that she and Mark were to be wed. By, that had made Bridget and Edward happy, and her and Richard an’ all. Not that Sarah had ever doubted that Sally would stand by Mark. But now Mark knew that too, and this would give him hope for his future.
Richard pulled the car up outside the small cottage that was to be their home, just a mile from his parents’ house in the pretty Northamptonshire countryside. Part of Sarah was sorry that this had to be so, but Richard would need to continue with his studies when he returned from the war and it seemed the best arrangement. Before that happened, she would stay as normal with her dad, but would come down here to Market Harborough if her petrol allowance would let her to be with Richard when he could get away.
A murmur from the crib on the back seat reminded her that they were now a family. ‘Uh-uh, Harriet is awake, and hungry no doubt. Richard, thank you for agreeing to her coming with us, on what is meant to be our honeymoon.’
‘I wouldn’t have it any different. She is “us” now. We can’t possibly go anywhere without our little Harriet. When I am away, I shall think of you both together at all times.’
Sarah had heard the saying one’s heart swelled with joy, and now she knew what it felt like.
‘Come on, let’s get in and get Harriet settled. I’ll cook for us while you feed her.’
It was as if they’d been doing this all of their lives.
That feeling stayed with Sarah as they got into bed later on. No nerves entered her, just complete and utter love and desire. Up until now, they’d kissed and had come near to going further, but they’d waited. Sarah had needed that, after what Billy put her through. She’d wanted to know the respect and gentleness of real love, but in its rightful place within their marriage, so that there was no guilt attached to it – no illicit taking and giving. She wanted purity.
Richard’s arms enclosed her the moment she slipped between the sheets. His kisses, tender and searching, landed in her hair, over her face and snuggled into her neck before he found her lips. They were giving kisses, not taking ones. They tingled a love through her and the feeling of being everything to her man.
His hands explored her and hers explored him, in the way they’d allowed themselves to before, but this was different. With the exploration of her naked body and the feel of his body pressing against hers, it was worlds different.
Her throat constricted until she could hardly swallow, and her breath panted, labouring with the sexual tension that had taken control of her. Now his fingers found the very heart of her, caressing her until she thought she would die with the ecstasy that took her into another world, a world she’d never entered before. And all to Richard’s whispered words of love, telling her she was beautiful, and was his, and would always be so.
When at last he entered her, Sarah’s very being let go. Flood after flood of feelings were released. Tears flowed down her cheeks at the utter fragmentation of the her she’d been, before this moment.
That person splintered into a thousand grains, as love and passion washed over her. And then, as the spasms of completeness passed, her body and soul reunited. Richard had made her whole again.
EPILOGUE
Eighteen Years Later
1958
42
Rita
Returning to the Scene of the Crime
Rita stood by the tree and looked towards Hensal Grange. Memories flooded back to her. Hatred and anger coiled in her stomach until the tightness of it hurt. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll get my own back.
Fifteen years she’d served. Fifteen years of hell. And for what? For that bastard, that bleedin’ bastard, Terence Crompton! Well, he was going to pay. Somehow she was going to make him pay.
Some of her anger was directed towards the huge banner-type sign over the gate, announcing ‘Hensal Grange Stud Farm’. So the bleedin’ bastard got what he always wanted, then? But at what cost to her, to Jack Fellam and that lovely girl, Iris?
Getting back into her car, she drove towards Fellam’s farm. Her nerves frayed at the thought of the reception she might get, but Jack was a link – a source of the information she needed. If she played her cards right and went under the guise of being sorry, she just might succeed in getting all she desired. The downfall of the high and mighty.
She’d made good, since her release. Three years of freedom had seen her turn her life from nothing to having a good income from her market stalls. Her uncle had always done the markets and she’d helped him as a kid, learning the ropes, the best stuff to sell and where to sell it. She’d started off with antique jewellery. With the money she’d come out of jail with, and some that she’d got from working the streets of London for a few months after her release, she’d bought some good pieces to get her going. Now she had four stalls and a fair few regular customers. Some bought off her, some sold to her, and others borrowed money on the strength of the value of their stuff, then forfeited it if they didn’t pay up. All in all, it was a good little number.
Recently she’d added another string to her bow – she’d set up a modelling agency. It was a game that covered a lot of different avenues: models for catalogues, models for calendars and playboy-type magazines; and besides these, she had others who came under the umbrella of ‘escorts’ who were willing to
go the extra mile for a client, and who could please the opposite sex as well as their own. All of it raked in the money, as if the streets were paved with gold, and she’d only to take a shovel to get her share.
Turning her Triumph TR3, her bright-red pride and joy, into the lane that led to Fellam’s, Rita saw that the sign no longer said ‘Fellam’s Stud Farm’. A pang of guilt gripped her. That Terence bleedin’ Crompton had a lot to answer for. Well, when the day came that she did to him what he’d had her do to Jack, she’d have no guilt about it. She’d rejoice.
Pulling the car up a little way from the farm, she could see activity going on in the yard. Good God! Is that Dorothy? Yes, she was sure it was. And who was the young lady with her? Pretty thing, slender figure, a mound of red hair glistening like flames in the sunlight – similar to what Megan had, only a richer colour. Probably about eighteen years old. She couldn’t be Dorothy’s daughter, surely?
Feeling scared and more nervous than she’d ever felt before, Rita coaxed her car along, getting nearer and nearer. Dorothy looked up, shielded her eyes and waited. Stopping just the other side of the gate, Rita got out.
‘Dorothy, it’s me – Rita.’
‘Rita! What on earth?’
‘Look, I know I shouldn’t have come, but, well, I wanted to say I’m sorry to Mr Fellam.’
‘You have no right to—’
‘I’ve done me time, Dorothy. I did fifteen bleedin’ years, and I swear to God the fire weren’t all my doing. It were—’
‘Fifteen years can never pay for what you did. You took away Jack’s livelihood, and you robbed that young girl of her life.’
‘But . . .’
‘What’s going on?’
‘It’s that girl – woman. The one who set the fire and—’
‘Christ! What’re you doing here, lass? Don’t you think you brought enough suffering on us?’
‘I came to say as I were sorry, Jack. And I wanted to tell you why it happened and who was really behind it.’
The moment froze. No one moved or spoke. Jack stood looking at Rita with an incredulous expression that gave way to many emotions. Dorothy held his arm, in the same way a wife would. Was she his wife now? Rita supposed it was possible. She’d heard what had happened to Megan, and for it to have done so the very night she’d caused so much devastation only increased her guilt. And the girl – the beautiful nameless girl – stood where she’d been the whole time, by the sheds, watching with fascination on her face.
Rita could see that the barn had been rebuilt, but not as a stable. She supposed it was a cowshed, as she’d seen cattle in Jack’s fields when she’d driven along the lanes. Regret punched her as she looked at it. Why did I do it?
‘Look, you’d better come in.’
‘No, Jack, we don’t want the likes of her here. She—’
‘Dorothy, love, we should hear what she has to say. I know as she has done us a great wrong, but everyone deserves a chance at making amends. No one can do more than that, can they? And fifteen years is a long punishment.’
‘But it doesn’t come anywhere near what Iris’s term is. That girl will suffer till her death, as will her family. The injury you inflicted on her head means that she cannot cope without help.’
‘I never meant for that to happen. I was made to do what I did by that Terence Crompton. He wanted me to destroy your stud farm, Jack, so as he could start his own. He said he’d see me right, said he loved me, but once he’d had me and I’d done as he’d wanted, he betrayed me.’
‘Hark at you. Can you hear what you’re saying, Rita? And all as if it should excuse you. Well, we heard it all at the trial, and we don’t want to hear your lies again. Because even if you are telling the truth, it beggars belief that you think it a justification for your vile actions.’
‘I don’t, but all I’m saying is that bleedin’ bloke up at Hensal Grange was behind it, and it looks as though he got what he wanted, don’t it? Hensal Grange Stud Farm. His dad wouldn’t fund him, not while you were in the same business, he wouldn’t. The final straw were when his dad said he would see you through the war and make sure you had the funds to come out the other side. That made His High-and-Mightiness flip. He came up with the plan to make it so as you lost everything and it would cost too much to help you start again.’
‘Dorothy, I reckon as we should welcome Rita in. She’s nowt to gain by coming here. She’s come because she wants forgiveness. I, for one, would like to give it her. There’s been enough upset. We can’t keep living with bitterness.’
‘Well, if you say so, Jack. Come on in then, Rita, but don’t expect much change from me. I’ve had a hard job picking up the pieces of what went on that night, and though it wasn’t all down to you, what you did put the tin hat on it.’
Nothing about the farm that Rita could see had changed much. She’d never been inside the house before, but it was as she imagined it would be. Jack motioned to her to sit at the wooden table in the centre of the huge kitchen. He and Dorothy sat opposite her, and the girl stood behind Jack.
‘Who’s this then? She has the look of Megan. Well, sort of.’
‘This is Harriet, me granddaughter.’ Jack looked full of pride as he said this. ‘She’s Sarah’s lass by her first marriage. Sarah’s married to Richard now, Megan’s half-brother – but no relation to Sarah, of course. They have two boys in their early teens.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Harriet, I’m sure.’ The girl smiled. She was a stunner. ‘If you don’t think me nosy asking, Jack, how is Sarah?’ With Jack telling her that Sarah was well and happy, Rita felt she could ask about the others. ‘And everyone else around at that time – did everyone survive the war?’
‘Pretty much. A few tragedies, even amongst those who did come home, but I don’t think as anyone you knew copped it. P’raps you’d do better to get on with why you’re here, Rita. Making conversation isn’t comfortable. It took me a lot to get over what you did. My insurance company refused to pay out, as arson wasn’t covered. You hit me with a blow I couldn’t take, on top of what else’d happened that night.’
‘I know. And that made it an even worse atrocity, if that were possible. But I have no other motive than to see if you can forgive me. It’s a lot to live with. And, like I say, I did me time. I wanted you to know that, though it don’t excuse me none, I did tell the truth at the trial. I were daft to believe that sod Crompton, but I were young and looking to better meself. Having escaped the filthy, overcrowded hole that were me home in the East End of London, I weren’t about to go back there. I never thought as I’d be capable of doing what I did, though. And, to tell the truth, I never really thought it through – what could happen, and how it would affect you. I didn’t, Jack, and I’m sorry.’
‘Well, lass, what you did were bad, but it came nowhere near what had gone just afore it, though in itself it caused me more heartache than I could take. But I appreciate you doing this. It can’t have been easy for you and, as far as I’m concerned, I forgive you.’
‘Ta, mate. That means a lot to me. I know you can’t forgive me, Dorothy, and I understand. You thought a lot of Iris, and it were terrible what happened to her as a consequence of me actions. I take it you and Jack are married?’
‘Yes, I stayed on after the war. We worked together for ten years before Jack came to love me, but to my shame I’d loved him from the moment I set eyes on him.’
‘Oh, I knew how you felt – we all did, and you couldn’t help them feelings. The thing is, you didn’t act on them. We knew you wouldn’t, not with him having a wife and being so happy, but you didn’t hide how it were for you, where Jack were concerned.’
Dorothy blushed, and a look passed between her and Jack that told of their love. Rita thought she’d never stop being sorry about what happened to Megan, but it was good to see the happiness that Dorothy and Jack had found together.
Although Rita knew everything she needed to know about Terence Crompton, she had to sound as though she didn’t. ‘I supp
ose High-’n’-Mighty Terence Crompton got married, did he?’
‘Yes, he married Louise and they’re very happy. They have three children: a boy and twin girls. It’s best you forget it all now, Rita. You look like you’ve made a life for yourself. You have the trappings of money. So let things lie, eh?’
‘I don’t have much choice, Dorothy, but I’d like you and Jack to believe me story. What happened to Theresa Crompton then?’
‘More than you can imagine! None of us knows the full story, as a lot of what she did was hush-hush and will remain so for a long time, but she worked behind enemy lines in the war. She’s changed. Looks like a dropout when she comes to visit, which is on very rare occasions. Her looks have gone, her hair is like wire and she smokes constantly. I reckon as she’s been through stuff we can’t imagine. They captured her, you know. And it’s said as she’d have been shot, or suffered a worse kind of death, but our lot and the Americans got there just in time to save her and all the prisoners from the prisoner-of-war camp she was being held in.’
‘Theresa, a war hero! Blimey, how did all that come about? The pair of them twins were as lazy as anyone could get, and were into all sorts as would make your hair curl. Bugger me!’
‘Aye, well, that’s as maybe, but she’s paid her dues for whatever it is you refer to. He hasn’t, not by a long shot, if what you say is reet. Terence Crompton came out on top, as his type allus do. His dad passed on sudden, and he’s come into the estate, besides having the best stud farm in the whole of the county and a good wife and happy home. He has a life to envy. It don’t seem right.’
‘You’re right, Jack, it don’t. What about his mam? She were a fragile thing when I worked there.’
‘Funny that. She were, weren’t she? And had been since her sister died . . .’ Jack’s pause spoke volumes. She’d never got to the bottom of it all, but she’d heard there had been a scandal surrounding Jack and Lady Crompton’s sister back in the early thirties. Rita watched as he shifted uncomfortably, before he continued, ‘Well, after Theresa went to war, Lady Crompton threw herself into charity war work and grew in strength. Everyone said it was Theresa’s efforts making her feel guilty, and it brought her out of herself. She’s still very active in the community and lives over in Tarrington House now.’