The Lie

by Linda Sole

  ‘Yes, I know,’ she said, immediately contrite, because she knew how hard it must be never knowing if this was the day your plane would crash in flames, taking you with it. ‘I’m sorry I threw a tantrum. I’ve been working hard myself – but I do love you, Simon.’

  ‘Well, so I should hope,’ he said, and laughed. ‘I might be a bit miffed if I thought you were tired of me already.’

  ‘No, of course I’m not,’ she said, and laughed as he swept her off her feet and sat her on the edge of the bed. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Something I fancy,’ he said, and pushed her skirt up over her thighs. ‘I’ve been thinking about this for weeks . . .’

  Emily gasped as he lowered his head, his tongue flicking up the soft inner flesh of her thigh. ‘Simon . . . don’t you think we ought to go down? Dinner will be ready . . .’

  ‘Be damned to dinner, my appetite is for something else.’

  The wicked light in his eyes made her laugh. She arched back as she felt the first flicker of pleasure as he invaded her with his tongue, moaning softly as the sweet torture went on and on for some minutes. And then she was lying beneath him on the covers, and he was thrusting into her eagerly, hastily. Almost too soon he withdrew and went into the bathroom, leaving her still vaguely unsatisfied. He had given her pleasure, yes, but in the end he had seemed as if he wanted it over with, as if he had been merely doing his duty.

  Emily shook her head, determined not to let this vague dissatisfaction spoil things between them. Simon loved her, he wanted her, worried about her being in Liverpool – so why should she feel that this was all wrong? It was silly but she had the feeling that Simon was merely playing a game, that their love-making gave him little or no pleasure. He had done what he had simply to placate her, keep her in a good mood.

  Oh, she was just being silly! Simon had loved her from the start. He was always saying it, and he’d bought her lovely gifts – but he didn’t look at her the way Terry did . . .

  Emily felt guilt as she recalled the hungry look in Terry’s eyes, the real pain she had seen there when she’d told him she was married. She mustn’t think about that, and she mustn’t let doubts creep into her mind. Simon made love to her often. Maybe it was her imagination that he seemed to be going through the motions rather than driven by real desire? Perhaps he was the kind of man who couldn’t show his feelings at such times?

  And yet he was good with words, and when they laughed together they had fun. It was just that she couldn’t get it out of her head that he was making love to her because it was expected. Just as she was expected to give him an heir to the estate.

  Eight

  Emily returned to work with mixed feelings at the end of her leave. A part of her was sorry to be parting from Simon, because the second half of their holiday had been much nicer. Simon had been different in London, more relaxed, and they’d gone out to the theatre and restaurants, and drunk a lot of champagne, which Simon always seemed able to find; perhaps because he was well known at the places they visited. She had decided that it was just being with his family that made him seem different, and this time he took her back to Liverpool on the train, taking a lingering farewell of her.

  ‘I’m not sure if I can get leave at Christmas or New Year,’ he told her. ‘But I’ll let you know as soon as I can.’

  ‘If you can’t I shall go home to Frances,’ Emily said. ‘I know I’ve got two days for New Year so do your best, but send me a postcard or something this time, Simon. Please?’

  ‘Yes, of course, I’m sorry,’ he said, and touched her cheek. ‘I don’t mean to be careless or hurt you, darling. I want to make you happy, but I’m an odd creature, you ask my family. I have always had moods and things are so bloody at the moment.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I understand.’ Emily smiled and kissed him. ‘I love you, Simon. I’ll try to be patient this time.’

  ‘Things have to get better soon,’ Simon said, and for a moment the grin she loved was in place. ‘You go now, Emily. I have to catch my train in a few minutes, and you’re all right now, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ She gave him a big hug and walked away. When she glanced back he was still watching her, but he was no longer smiling.

  Connor loved having tea with Peter’s family. It wasn’t that they had much food – nothing special at any rate, just bread and marge; the government was becoming stricter about farm produce and you couldn’t keep much of what you produced these days. However, there was usually a fresh egg from the hens in the yard, a few jam tarts and a slice for each of them of the big seed cake Alice had baked the previous evening. The reason he liked being with them was that they were such a happy family, all talking and laughing as they ate and drank their tea, sometimes with their mouths full.

  Frances invariably complained if he spoke with his mouth full. It wasn’t much fun living with her these days. She only had one thing in her head, and that was the baby. She was always knitting things, grumbling at her brother if he made a mess in the house, and telling him to be quiet. He missed Emily desperately, and Daniel. He wished that this rotten war was over and his brother would come home. He was longing for him and Alice to get married, because Dan had said Connor could live with them once he’d fixed himself up with a house.

  ‘You’d better get home, love,’ Alice said to him when she had finished clearing the table, the washing up neatly done and put away. ‘It’s dark out and Frances will worry. Do you want me to walk home with you?’

  ‘No, I’m all right thanks.’ Connor smiled at her. He really liked Alice and he was glad she was going to marry his brother. ‘I’ll run all the way – don’t worry, the gremlins won’t get me.’

  Alice laughed and he called goodbye to his friend and Mrs Robinson and then went out sharpish. He had to force himself to leave the warmth and comfort of their big family kitchen, where he felt so at home. The trouble was, he didn’t have a home any longer. The house belonged to Frances and Marcus now, and she was always making changes. It felt all wrong, as if his world kept shifting.

  He wished his father were still alive. He hardly remembered his mother at all, but he hadn’t noticed so much while his father was around, now he felt lost and alone, the only time he was really happy was when he was at Peter’s house.

  He kicked at a bottle lying discarded on the path, sending it into the gutter, and then picked up stones and threw them at it, trying to break the glass. Frances would be playing the gramophone while she knitted baby coats. She would tell him to kiss her and then send him to bed. He didn’t really want to go home, but it was cold out and there was nowhere else he could go at this time of night. He might ask Henry if he could stop there for a while when school broke up.

  He saw the girl get off the bus, and hesitate as she walked towards him. She was quite a pretty girl with dark hair, and when she spoke she had a funny accent, a bit like the tinkers who had come with the fair one summer, but softer and nicer. She smiled at him.

  ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Do you live in this village?’

  ‘Yeah – just up the road, why?’

  ‘I wondered if you could tell me where Daniel Searles lives?’

  ‘Why do you want to know?’ His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  ‘I have something to tell him,’ the girl said. ‘Is he at home?’

  ‘Nah, he’s working down south somewhere,’ Connor said. ‘I could tell him when I see him, if you like?’

  ‘Is he still at that base near Southampton?’

  ‘Yeah, I reckon.’ Connor gave her a hard look. How did she know that? He made up his mind that he didn’t like her, even though she was being friendly. ‘He might have been moved up to Scotland, though. I heard someone say he was going overseas soon.’

  ‘Oh.’ The girl nodded, as if that settled something in her mind. ‘You’re sure he isn’t here?’

  ‘That’s his house up there.’ Connor pointed at his home. ‘Go and ask if you don’t believe me. I’m his brother so I should know.’
>
  ‘You are Daniel’s brother?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Connor gave her a defiant look. ‘So what?’

  ‘Give him this then,’ she said, and took a small packet from her pocket. ‘And if you see him tell him the lady who gave it to you is getting married at Christmas – will you do that for me? My name is Maura. You will tell him you saw me?’

  ‘Yeah, if you like.’ Connor shoved the packet into his pocket. ‘The bus is leaving any minute if you want to catch it, miss. There won’t be another one tonight and there’s nowhere to stay here.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She turned and ran towards it, scrambling on board and waving to him from the window as the bus moved off.

  Connor shuffled his feet. He’d told her a lot of lies, but it didn’t matter. Something about her had made him wary, and he had felt she might cause trouble for Daniel.

  He fingered the packet in his pocket. It felt soft and he was curious about what it contained. Opening it, he saw that it was one of Daniel’s handkerchiefs; it had his initials in the corner and there were others like it in the chest of drawers in his brother’s bedroom.

  Why had the girl come especially to bring the handkerchief? It seemed a waste of time to Connor. She could have sent it through the post, couldn’t she? He shoved it back in his pocket, deciding he would put it with the others in Dan’s chest and say nothing to him about the girl at all.

  Emily was surprised when Maura told her she was getting married at Christmas. She had just returned from a short leave to visit family, and she had dropped her bombshell when they were alone.

  ‘But . . .’ Emily looked at her helplessly. ‘I’ve seen you with someone – Steve Jacobs I think his name is – but you’ve only known him a short time, haven’t you?’

  ‘Long enough,’ Maura said. ‘Anyway, I don’t have a lot of choice. I’m having a baby and I want to get married. My father would have a fit if I didn’t.’

  Maura never talked about her family. She had a sister living in Ireland but she’d never mentioned her father before.

  ‘Oh, well, that’s lovely,’ Emily said, and moved to kiss her cheek. ‘I’m glad for you – if it’s what you want?’

  ‘I wanted a baby,’ Maura said, and for a moment her eyes were bleak. ‘Steve is all right. He says he loves me so I suppose we shall get on.’

  The expression in her eyes was saying all the things she wasn’t. Emily realized that behind her cheerful manner she was still very unhappy.

  ‘Why don’t you go and see John again?’

  ‘No!’ Maura recoiled, the grief twisting her face. ‘I can’t, Emily. I’ve thought about it again and again, but I just can’t. I’ve got the baby and Steve will look after me. The past is over, I have to forget.’

  Emily thought it was easy to say, but not so easy to walk away from memories.

  ‘I hope you’ll be happy,’ she said softly.

  ‘You’ll come to my wedding, won’t you?’

  ‘Yes, if I can manage it,’ Emily replied. ‘Simon won’t be getting leave until the end of January it seems, so I’m going home for a few days – but that isn’t until the New Year. I want to see Frances. She is having a baby too, and she’s very excited about it.’

  ‘You aren’t yet, are you? Do you mind?’

  Emily shook her head. ‘No, not for the moment. I thought I might be but it hasn’t happened, and in a way I’m glad. I should have to leave the service then and go to live with Simon’s family.’

  ‘Don’t you want to? You said they were nice, and that it was a lovely place to live.’

  ‘Yes, it is, and I do enjoy being there. The first time I went I fell in love with the house and gardens. It’s just . . .’ She struggled to find the words. ‘Now that we’re married, they seem . . . oh, I don’t know! It’s hard to explain, because they were nice to me but – I think they want me to give up my job and fit in with the family.’

  Maura laughed. ‘It’s always like that with in-laws. You’ll have to get used to it, love. Sure, it’s one of the things we all have to contend with – the mother-in-law.’

  ‘No, it isn’t like that exactly. Amelia is lovely and so is Vane, but . . .’ How could she explain that it was the effect his family seemed to have on Simon? Away from his family he was a different man. ‘I’m probably being very silly. I expect when I get used to the idea I shall be happy enough.’

  ‘Well, I don’t care what Steve’s family is like,’ Maura told her. ‘I’ll go my own way, so I will, and the devil take it!’

  It was nice to see Maura looking happier again, Emily thought. She would miss her when she left, but once Maura told their supervisor that she was having a child, she would be asked to leave anyway.

  Emily wasn’t particularly worried that she hadn’t conceived yet herself. After all, there was plenty of time.

  Emily came out of the pictures, having enjoyed the big film Rebecca, thrilling to Hitchcock’s masterpiece of deception and betrayal. She had been to an early showing, and emerged just as the sirens went, looking at her companion in dismay.

  ‘Shall we try to get home or find a shelter?’

  ‘Let’s follow them.’ Mary Jones, a friend of Emily’s from work, pointed in the direction of a small crowd of people who seemed to know where they were going.

  Emily didn’t argue. Anything was better than being caught on the streets in a raid. They joined several women and children taking shelter in a church, but within twenty minutes the all-clear went and they realized it had been a false alarm. As they emerged into the cold of a December night, they could smell the enticing odour of coffee coming from a café further up the road and made a beeline for it.

  Mary found them a table near the window, while Emily joined the queue for coffee and the plain biscuits, which was all that was on offer apart from some greasy looking Spam and chips. She carried her tray back to where Mary sat waiting.

  ‘I don’t know how some of these places make a living these days,’ she told her friend. ‘They can’t get very rich out of tea and biscuits, can they?’

  ‘Oh, they manage,’ Mary said. ‘I came here for pie and chips the other day. It was all right, though I’m not sure what was in the pie . . . it might have been chicken but I’m not sure.’

  ‘They haven’t got much scope at their prices,’ Emily said. But cafés like these were only allowed to serve meals under two shillings, and they didn’t often contain meat. ‘I sometimes wonder how they think we can live on what—’ She broke off as someone approached their table, glancing up at the man carrying a tray with a plate of Spam and chips, some bread spread with yellow margarine and a cup of tea.

  ‘Do you mind if I sit with you?’ he asked. ‘There aren’t many seats left and I only got in a few minutes ago. The train was late because they wouldn’t let us through at the last signal.’

  ‘Terry . . .’ Emily breathed hard as she saw him. ‘Yes, of course you can. We’re only having a cup of coffee. There was a false alarm a little while ago. I expect that’s why they halted your train, just in case it was a genuine raid.’

  ‘Yes, I expect so,’ he said. ‘I haven’t eaten since this morning. Excuse me if I eat, won’t you?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Emily turned to her companion. ‘Mary, this is Terry Burgess. He’s a fireman but he’s training recruits now.’

  ‘Nice to meet you,’ Mary said, and got up. ‘I’d better get home, Emily. My parents will worry . . .’

  ‘I’ll come with you, if you like?’

  ‘No, you stop and talk to your friend. I’m going to catch a bus round the corner anyway.’

  Emily was silent after her friend had left. ‘Mary is one of the few of us living at home. She’s lucky really.’

  ‘How are you, Emily?’ Terry’s eyes were on her as she sipped her coffee.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘I went to the pictures with Mary earlier. We saw Rebecca – it was good.’

  ‘I haven’t seen it,’ Terry admitted. ‘I took a friend’s children to see Snow White, tho
ugh. We all enjoyed that.’

  Emily laughed. It seemed odd to think of the large, strong fireman enjoying a film meant for youngsters, and yet it was nice that he had taken his friend’s children to see it.

  ‘Are you still with the training unit?’

  ‘I’ve been having a bit of treatment on my hands,’ Terry said. ‘I might get back to work properly next year, so they tell me.’

  ‘I’m glad.’ Impulsively, she reached across the table and took the worst affected of his hands in hers, stroking it gently. ‘I hope this will be back to normal soon.’

  ‘Emily . . .’ His fingers tightened about her hand and she realized his grip was stronger than she had imagined. ‘You know I care about you, don’t you? I have no right but it doesn’t stop what I feel inside. If ever you need anything . . .’ He released her hand and sat back, pulling a wry face. ‘And that was bloody daft when you’re happily married, wasn’t it?’

  ‘No, not at all,’ she said. ‘I hope we are friends, Terry, and, if things were different . . .’

  She left the words unsaid, knowing that she was treading on dangerous ground.

  ‘He does make you happy?’

  Terry’s eyes were on her face, and she had the oddest feeling. For a second she wanted to tell him that she was afraid that she had made a terrible mistake, but she clamped down on her words. How ridiculous was that? She was in love with Simon. These doubts she’d been having would all vanish when Simon came home.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she said, not meeting Terry’s eyes. She stood up, knowing she had to leave quickly. ‘I must get back now. I’m on duty early tomorrow and I need to sleep.’