by Pat Herbert
“Oh, don’t worry. I intend to. He mustn’t get a whiff of what we’re planning.”
As Vesna stood on the front doorstep watching her sister pick her way gingerly down the slippery path, there came a booming voice behind her. “Where’s that sister of yours going?” demanded Rodney Purbright.
“Er, we forgot the flour,” said Vesna hastily. “For the steak pie,” she added by way of further explanation.
“I see,” he said. “Very well. I like a nice steak pie. Don’t forget the kidney.”
Elvira escaped out of the gate and headed off towards the High Street. Harry Banks will soon sort him out, she thought grimly.
Vesna followed Rodney back into the parlour. She watched as he sat down in front of the fire once more and started to toast his stockinged feet.
“So, Rodney,” she said, clearing her throat. “Why have you come back after all this time? Where have you been? Don’t you think you owe me some kind of an explanation?”
“All in good time,” he replied. “Anyway, I thought you’d be glad to see me back. Haven’t you missed me? I thought I meant the world to you. You told me so often enough.”
Careful not to arouse his suspicions, she replied, keeping her voice even, “Of course I missed you. But you’ve been gone a long time. Things change. People change.”
She came and sat down in the armchair on the other side of the hearth. “My life’s moved on. Er, I think you should do the same. Get yourself another girl. They must be queuing up. You’ll soon forget me.”
Rodney Purbright grinned at her lasciviously. He thought about another young woman, now faraway, whom he once thought could have made him happy. There had been others, too.
“How could I forget you and all we meant to each other?” he said, reaching out his hand to stroke her cheek. She flinched inwardly as he did so. “We made a vow, Vessie, and I intend to hold you to our bond.” Then the grin disappeared as suddenly as it had come, and he fixed her with a flint-like stare. “No matter what.”
Harry Banks was in the act of chopping up some pig’s liver for a customer when Elvira rushed into the shop.
“Elvira!” he exclaimed. “Where’s the fire, old girl?”
He wasn’t nearly as handsome as Rodney Purbright, or as tall, or as muscle-bound, but there was something rather charming about his thin, sensitive face and soft hazel eyes. His gentle features suited him as he was as gentle as they were, and a kinder man than Harry Banks would have been hard to find, unless his father was nearby.
Elvira could see why her sister had fallen for him. She only wished she could find someone like Harry herself, but that was a mere pipe dream, of course. In fact, if she had been tempted to admit her feelings, she would have had to say she loved her sister’s second fiancé as much as she loathed her first. Just because her eyes didn’t match, and her nose was a little too large, she was still a woman with feelings like any other. But, like all men, Harry had eyes only for Vesna, so she kept any romantic thoughts about him strictly to herself. But, no matter how she tried, her heart always gave an involuntary lurch whenever she saw him. And today, despite the desperate circumstances she and Vesna found themselves in, was no exception.
“Sorry, Harry,” she said, catching her breath. “I’ve come from Vesna. Her old fiancé, the one we thought was dead, has turned up and is making all kinds of threats.”
Harry put down his lethal looking cleaver and came around the counter. Elvira secretly pictured this very cleaver sticking in Rodney Purbright’s head, and it gave her a frisson of pleasure. He gently took her arm and led her through to the back room. Several shoppers were lining up to be served but, at that moment, he didn’t care. His Vesna was in trouble and he had to help her and her sister, even if old Mrs Harding was demanding her week’s ration of tripe at that moment.
“Dad,” he called out. “Can you serve, please? I need to take a break for a minute.”
A rotund, red-faced man of about fifty-five appeared from the cellar below. “I’m doing a stock take, Harry. Can’t you deal with them? Oh, hello, Miss Rowan,” he said, catching sight of Elvira as his son was leading her into the back room. “How are you?”
“She’s fine, Dad,” intercepted Harry. “Can you just serve?”
“Of course,” said his father, sensing the urgency in his son’s tone. “I’m on my way.”
“Here,” said Harry, seating Elvira by the rather inadequate radiator. “Now, when you feel calmer, please tell me what’s going on.”
“He just turned up out of the blue and said he was going to stay with us until he and Vesna got married. He’s taken over my bedroom,” she moaned. “I can’t stand him. He’s a nasty piece of work. Vessie sent me to fetch you. You must help us to get rid of him. Please, Harry.”
While she was saying this, she looked at him with growing concern. He wasn’t a match for Rodney Purbright on his own, she realised. “You’d better bring your dad along,” she said. “He’s a very big man, and I don’t think you’ll overpower him on your own.”
Harry, who knew he was no Charles Atlas, smiled. He was a little hurt at Elvira’s lack of confidence in his powers but didn’t say so. “Okay. You go back now, and me and Dad’ll come round as soon as we close. You’re not in any immediate physical danger, are you?”
“No, I don’t think so,” she said, getting up and buttoning her coat. “We’ll keep him happy till you come. We’re going to cook him a steak pie. I hope he chokes on it.”
So saying, she made her way back through the snow, praying that Rodney Purbright had been behaving himself in her absence.
“I don’t think you should get involved, son.”
Harry Banks stared at his father in amazement. “Not get involved? What do you mean? I am involved! She’s my fiancée. We’re getting married, Dad, or had you forgotten?”
Arnold Banks sighed. “Of course I haven’t forgotten. I think you know your mother and I aren’t very happy about it. After all, you hardly know the girl. You’ve only been walking out with her for a fortnight. And she’s two years older than you.”
“So what? What’s her age got to do with it? I only know that two weeks is long enough to know I want to spend the rest of my life with her.” He paused and gave his father a forlorn look. “I love her, Dad.”
The old butcher paused in the act of returning some unsold lamb chops to the freezer and turned to face his anxious son. “You tell me that, but don’t you remember you were just as keen on Milly Wynyard not so long ago. Said you couldn’t live without her.”
“That was different. Are you going to put those chops in the freezer or are you going to let the blood drip all over the floor?”
“How was it different?” asked the older man, putting the chops away carefully. They would be snapped up tomorrow first thing, he knew.
Now that meat was coming off the ration, he was able to buy in more and offer a wider selection than he had been able to recently. He had to make sure there was enough to go round, even though there wasn’t the money about like before the War. People were just about managing now, but they would always find the money for a good piece of meat to fill their bellies. They’d had enough of going without, thought Arnold.
He sighed and faced his son. “I still don’t know what happened there. You never explained properly. You’ll drive your mother mad, son. Now this Vesna … I mean, what sort of a name is that, anyway?”
“Look, Dad. Milly was a nice kid, but she was so immature! Vesna’s a woman. She understands me completely. We have a laugh when we go out. She and I share the same sense of humour. Do you see what I mean?”
“Certainly, I do, lad. Have fun, by all means. But wait a bit till you’re sure she’s the right one for you. You’re only nineteen. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Why tie yourself down with a wife and maybe kids too? Time enough for that when you’ve lived a bit more.”
Harry tried to interrupt but his father was
in full flow. He raised his hand. “Anyway, even if you are daft enough to marry this girl, it doesn’t seem right that we should go interfering with this chap who’s turned up. He’s just come back from the War, and he was her fiancé long before you. He must have the prior claim.”
“Maybe. But Vessie’s sister says he’s behaving in a very threatening manner towards them both and it can’t be right to do that. If Vessie’s changed her mind about marrying him, he should respect that and leave her alone. That’s what any decent man would do.”
“Whatever the situation, my boy, you shouldn’t get involved. If she’s serious about you and doesn’t want anything to do with her former fiancé, then all well and good. But you need to wait and see what happens. After all, if she can dismiss him that easily, what does it mean for you? Maybe she’ll meet someone else who’ll take her fancy and throw you over. Don’t you see? Look son, I’m not trying to put the mockers on anything. All I ask is that you keep out of it and wait and see how the land lies once the dust has settled.”
Harry followed his father up the cellar steps into the shop. He turned the sign to ‘closed’ and smiled at his father. He was a dear man, but he didn’t understand. He didn’t understand at all.
Chapter Six
“So,” said Rodney Purbright, “where is this so-called fiancé of yours? I thought you said he was coming to sort me out.”
Elvira answered on her sister’s behalf. “He said he was coming and bringing his dad. So, make it easy on yourself and leave now before you end up with a black eye or worse.”
“Ooh, dear!” he exclaimed in mock horror. “I’m scared! See – I’m quaking in my boots.”
Vesna was watching out of the front window for a sign of Harry or his father. “They’re taking their time,” she said nervously. “The butcher’s has been closed for over half an hour.”
“Don’t worry,” said her sister. “They’ll be here. Harry said.”
“Well, where is he?” Vesna demanded, panic rising in her voice as she turned to look at Rodney. “I don’t like him sitting there, looking at us like that.”
“And you think I do?” Elvira rejoined. “Don’t worry. Calm down. They’ll be here soon.”
As if in answer, the doorbell rang. Vesna rushed to the front door and admitted Harry Banks, who was unaccompanied. She brought him into the parlour to confront her former lover.
“I thought you were bringing your dad,” said Elvira, arching her eyebrows at him. They were the most elegant things about her, as she painfully plucked them night after night for want of anything better to do.
Harry looked down at his feet, as if ashamed. “I – I’m sorry, he didn’t feel it was his place to interfere.”
“Quite right!” Rodney piped up. “It’s something we need to settle, man to man. How about a drink? What’s the beer like at the Bricklayer’s? I passed it on the way here.”
Harry shuffled his feet and coughed. “Good – the beer’s good,” he said, eyeing Vesna slyly, while she stared at him open-mouthed.
She couldn’t believe he was kowtowing to this horrible man. He was about to take his fiancée from him, and all he could do was chat about the quality of the local beer.
“Right!” declared Rodney, standing up at once. “Let’s you and me pay a visit and have a pint or three. I’m sure we can sort out this little difficulty.” With that, he put a languid arm around Harry’s shoulders and hustled him out of the room. “See you later, ladies.”
“Little difficulty!” screamed Vesna when they had gone. “So, I’m just a ‘little difficulty’, am I?” She was fuming.
“Well, I didn’t expect that,” observed Elvira. “So much for your precious boyfriend. I thought he’d be a man and stand up to him. Punch him on the nose, at least. I can’t think what’s come over him. He was all for sorting him out good and proper when I left him. ”
“Must have been his dad, I suppose. It’s very annoying,” said Vesna. “If Harry won’t do anything, I don’t know what we’ll do.”
Elvira shrugged helplessly. “I really thought Harry wouldn’t let you down.”
“Well, I want nothing more to do with him after this. What a wimp!”
“Maybe you should marry Rodney, after all?”
Although Elvira had meant it as a joke, it didn’t go down well with her sister.
“You’re not serious?” she yelled at her. “The man’s a scoundrel! We don’t know what went on with him in the War, for a start. He was supposed to have been shot as a coward, remember?”
“I was only kidding,” said Elvira with a sigh. “Besides, you were the one to insist that he wasn’t a coward, remember?”
Vesna snorted back her rage. “Well, I admit I could’ve been wrong. But I tell you this, I’d sooner kill him than have him hanging round our necks indefinitely.”
Elvira had a sneaking suspicion her sister wasn’t altogether joking. “Get a grip, Vessie,” she said calmly. “He won’t stay once he knows it’s a waste of time.”
“You think so?” asked Vesna, her voice at least an octave higher than her usual range. “Then you’re more of a fool than I took you for.” She slumped down in the chair recently vacated by Rodney Purbright.
“Well, you never know…” Elvira tried again. “Maybe Harry will convince him to go. We needn’t despair just yet.”
Rodney and Harry found a table near the window of the Bricklayer’s Arms on Maple Street, the nearest pub to Hallows Mead. It was a popular meeting place for the locals and was already packed, even though it had only been open half an hour. Harry caught sight of his father at the bar but didn’t approach him. He knew he wasn’t happy that his son had defied him and gone to see Vesna, but Harry’s sense of honour hadn’t allowed him to just ignore the situation. He also had to make sure his fiancée wasn’t in any real danger.
But, far from being a danger to Vesna and her sister, this Rodney Purbright seemed a very decent sort. He had paid for their first pints which showed he wasn’t mean with his money. A man who stood you a pint couldn’t be all bad, or so thought Harry Banks.
“Well, Harry, old chap, this is a bit of a rum do, isn’t it?” said Rodney jokily. “Cheers!” He clinked his beer glass against Harry’s. “Good to meet you – even if it is in these rather unusual circumstances.”
“Cheers,” responded Harry, taking a long swig of his beer.
It was cold and smooth, and he felt good once the liquid reached the pit of his stomach. Nothing like a cool pint of beer to sort out the troubles of the world.
“The way I see it,” said Harry, wiping the froth from his mouth, “is that you have the prior claim and I don’t want any trouble about it.”
The older man stared at his companion in surprise. His plan had been to get his young rival drunk and tip him in the canal on the way home. Now it looked like such extreme measures wouldn’t be called for. He would still have liked to thrash this upstart just for taking what was rightfully his, but he supposed there really wasn’t any point.
“That’s very big of you, young sir,” he said cheerfully. “But I didn’t expect such an easy victory. Surely you aren’t prepared to give up the young lady without a bit of a fight?”
Harry smiled, still a little nervous of him, despite the man’s outward air of amiability. “I don’t want to fight you, sir,” he said with some deference. “I understand you fought in the War. I was just a bit too young. You have every right to come back and claim Vesna as your bride.”
“Well, you would have thought so, wouldn’t you?” said Rodney, finishing his pint and already on his feet to fetch another. “But it seems she prefers you now.”
“My round,” insisted Harry, ignoring Rodney’s observation. Only an hour ago, he would have said that was true, but now he wasn’t so sure. Vesna no doubt saw this friendly man-to-man talk as a betrayal.
“Put your money away, boy,” he heard Rodney say. “This is my treat.”
The man went up a few more notches in Harr
y’s estimation at this. There was no doubt of it; he was a decent bloke and he had no right to come between him and Vesna. The more he thought about what his father had said, the more he began to see the wisdom of his words. He was right. He was too young to settle down. Even with someone as lovely as Vesna Rowan. He felt a qualm when he pictured her in his mind’s eye, her face turned up to his for a kiss. He pushed the image away as he saw Rodney returning with the beers.
He might have thought differently if he had known what the older man was thinking. As it was, he was unaware of how Rodney liked to get the upper hand of any man, and that his giving in so easily had only riled him. But, not knowing this, Harry was quite happy to accompany him along the canal path on the way home.
Chapter Seven
Rodney Purbright loomed up the path of Appleby Cottage sometime after midnight. The Rowan sisters had put off going to bed, dreading his return. It had been too much to hope that Harry Banks would have talked him round and persuaded him to leave them in peace. Elvira had suggested that Vesna should go to bed as she needed to be up early the next morning for work, but she wouldn’t hear of it. So, the two sisters, united for once in their anxiety, sat waiting.
They heard him fumbling at the front door, followed shortly after by a loud thumping. They were even more scared of him now that he was obviously the worse for drink.
“Don’t let him in,” whispered Vesna, holding onto her sister as she made to get up from the sofa. “Perhaps he’ll go away!”
“And perhaps he’ll wake up the whole neighbourhood,” said Elvira sensibly. “We’ll have to let him in anyway, all his stuff’s here. He’ll need to take it with him when he finally goes.”
“But he isn’t going, is he?” wailed Vesna. “I think he’s going to kill me.”
“Kill you? Why on Earth should you think that? He said he was going to marry you, you silly woman.”