His Diamond Bride

by Lucy Gordon

  ‘But we know what the next one will be like,’ Dee said wryly. ‘Mark and Sylvia will be married, and she’ll probably be pregnant.’

  ‘The way they’re carrying on, it’ll happen the other way round,’ Helen observed grimly. ‘Look at them. I didn’t bring my girls up to act like that.’

  Dee smothered a grin. Between her parents’ wedding anniversary and Sylvia’s birthday was a mere three months, but all the family pretended not to notice.

  ‘You wouldn’t do a thing like that, would you, Mum?’ she asked demurely.

  ‘That’s enough from you, my girl. Any more of your cheek and I’ll-’

  ‘What, Mum?’

  ‘And don’t you think you can snigger and get away with it. Just you be careful.’

  ‘Leave it,’ Joe said easily. ‘They’re young, like we were once.’

  He slipped his arm around his wife’s shoulders. As she turned her head they exchanged smiles, and suddenly the staid middle-aged couple blurred and there was a faint echo of the young lovers whose passion had overcome them. Dee slipped quickly away.

  She tried not to go in the direction of Mark and Sylvia, but she couldn’t resist a quick look. As she’d feared, they were locked in each other’s arms, oblivious to everyone around them, trusting the night and the excitement to conceal them.

  How tightly he was holding her. How passionate his caresses, how tender his kiss. How Dee’s heart yearned at the sight of her sister enjoying so much happiness in the arms of this wonderful young man.

  She turned away, giving herself a firm lecture. She had no right to be jealous. He belonged to Sylvia. She would get over him and find someone who was right for herself.

  But deep inside was the fear that this might never happen, that he was the one and only and she’d met him too late. He would be her brother-in-law, lost to her for ever, and she would become a mean, miserable old maid.

  This prospect was so terrible that she forced a smile to her face and began to jump up and down, as if dancing.

  ‘Come on, Dee,’ yelled a voice in her ear. Arms went about her, sweeping her round and round.

  It was Tom, who lived three doors down. He was gormless but well-meaning and she’d known him all her life, so she willingly danced with him and managed not to look at Mark and Sylvia for a while.

  They danced and danced while someone played the accordion and fireworks flared. Then the cry went up, ‘It’s nearly midnight!’

  The cheers were deafening. It’s almost nineteen thirty-nine. Yippee!

  Laughing, Dee made the rounds of her friends and neighbours, hugging them, wishing them joy. Now she was looking out for Mark and Sylvia again, because surely she could sneak a New Year hug with him. Just sisterly, she promised herself.

  In the distance she saw Sylvia and hurried towards her, but then she checked herself, unable to believe what she’d seen.

  Her sister was in a man’s arms, but the man wasn’t Mark.

  Nonsense, it must be Mark! Who else could it be?

  But it wasn’t Mark. It was the new milkman.

  Never mind, she tried to reassure herself. Just a neighbourly embrace; nothing more.

  But it was far more. Sylvia’s mouth was locked on the young man’s as firmly as it had been locked on Mark’s just a few minutes ago.

  Firecrackers exploded all around her. The sky was brilliant, but inside her there was darkness. Sylvia had betrayed Mark, had turned from his arms to another man. How could she?

  Turning, she could see Mark, looking around him as though trying to find Sylvia. She hastened over to him, calling his name and forcing him to turn so that he couldn’t see into the shadows, and the heartbreak that awaited him there.

  ‘Dee!’ he called cheerfully. ‘Come here!’

  Before she knew it, he seized her by the waist, raised her high above his head, holding her as easily as if she weighed nothing, then lowered her to deliver a smacking kiss. It was the act of a friend, not a lover. Yet her heart leapt at the feel of his mouth against hers. If only it would last! If only it could be for real!

  But it was over. She knew a sad feeling of irony as her feet touched the ground. This was where she belonged. Not up in the air.

  ‘Have you seen Sylvia?’ he asked.

  ‘I…no, I…thought she’d be with you.’

  ‘She was, but someone grabbed her and danced her away.’

  ‘And you’re not jealous?’

  ‘Because she dances with another fellow? I’m not that pathetic.’

  His grin was full of cheeky self-confidence, saying that he had nothing to fear. It plainly never occurred to him that Sylvia might have crossed the line.

  Only later did Dee realise that she could have seized the chance to reveal Sylvia’s treachery to Mark and break them up, perhaps claim him for herself. At the time, all she could think was that he must be protected from hurt.

  ‘Come on, let’s dance,’ he said, opening his arms.

  It was bliss to dance with him, feeling his arms about her, knowing that the other girls envied her. News of his attractions had gone around the neighbourhood like lightning and everyone wanted to see him. Having seen him, they wanted to stay and see some more, and then to dance with him.

  One or two of them tried to break in, claiming to believe that this was an ‘excuse me’ dance. Dee suppressed the inclination to do murder, swung away to another partner, but then reclaimed Mark as soon as possible.

  ‘You’re putting me in danger,’ he joked breathlessly as they bounded around together. ‘There are at least three men who thought you should turn to them, but you came to me. I’m flattered.’

  ‘Don’t be. I’m just keeping Sylvia’s property safe for her. I’m a very good sister.’

  ‘Her sister or mine?’

  A mysterious instinct to confront the thing she dreaded made her say, ‘It’s going to be the same thing soon, isn’t it?’

  His face darkened. ‘Who can tell? Where is she?’

  ‘Why don’t you go and find her?’

  His lips twisted wryly, and she understood the message. Mark Sellon did not search yearningly for a woman, or beg for her attention. He let them beg him.

  ‘You’re the only one she cares about,’ Dee urged. ‘She’s probably just trying to make you jealous.’

  ‘Then she’s failing,’ he said lightly. ‘Let’s go.’

  He swung her higher in the air but, before he could do more, they both saw Sylvia on the edge of the crowd. She was with a different young man, struggling with him, although not seriously, and laughing all the while. She laughed even louder when he managed to plant a kiss on her mouth.

  Suddenly Dee found herself alone. There was a yell from the young man as he was hauled away and dumped on the pavement, and a shriek of excitement from Sylvia as Mark hurried her unceremoniously down a side street and into the darkness. The fascinated onlookers could just make out raised voices, which stopped very suddenly.

  ‘No prizes for guessing what’s happening now,’ someone said to a general laugh.

  But then they all fell silent as the church clock began to strike midnight, looking up into the sky as though they could read there the tale of the coming year.

  He’ll marry her, Dee thought forlornly, and I’ll have to move away so that I don’t see him so much. Perhaps I could move into the Nurses’ Home.

  ‘Hey, Dee!’ Helen and Joe were waving, beckoning for her to join them as the clock neared twelve.

  ‘Where’s Sylvia?’ Helen demanded. ‘Ah, yes, I can see her.’

  There she was, drifting slowly back along the street, arms around Mark, her head resting on his shoulder, gazing up at him with a look of adoration; a look he returned in full. As the clock reached the final ‘bong’ he pulled her into a tight embrace, crushing her mouth with his own as the crowd erupted around them.

  ‘It’s nineteen thirty-nine!’

  ‘Happy New Year!’

  ‘Happy New Year, everybody! Happy-happy-happy-’

 
Mark and Sylvia heard none of it. At one with each other, they had banished the world. Nothing and nobody else existed.

  ‘Including me,’ Dee whispered softly. ‘Happy New Year.’

  Two days later, Mark moved out to a local bed and breakfast, and after that Dee saw less of him. They would sometimes pass as she was leaving for work and he was just arriving at the garage, but she was usually home too late to catch him. Once a week Sylvia would bring him to supper. Other nights she would go out and return late. Watching jealously, Dee saw that sometimes she came home smiling, and sometimes she seemed grumpy, but she always denied that there had been any quarrel.

  Dee constantly braced herself for news of the engagement, but it never came. As the weeks passed, her nerves became more strained until it would almost have been a relief to know that he’d finally proposed to Sylvia, even set the date. If only it would happen soon, before she fell totally in love with him and it was too late.

  And all the time she knew she was fooling herself. The spark of love had ignited in her the night they’d met, but she’d been too inexperienced to know it. Over the next few days it had flared and grown stronger. Now it was already too late. It had always been too late. It had been too late from the first moment.

  Day after day, she waited for the axe to fall but, mysteriously, it never did.

  There wasn’t always time to worry about her own life. As the early months of 1939 passed, the news from Europe grew more ominous and war more likely. Hitler continued to invade weaker countries, annexing them in defiance of the Munich Agreement that he’d signed with Neville Chamberlain the previous September, until even Chamberlain announced that negotiations with him were impossible.

  ‘Mark can’t talk about anything else,’ Sylvia said sulkily. ‘He’s set his heart on the Air Force, and he just takes it for granted that I’ll stick around.’

  ‘But of course,’ Dee said, shocked. ‘You couldn’t leave him when he was doing his duty to his country.’

  ‘To him it’s fun, not duty. I can’t even get his attention long enough to make him jealous.’

  ‘Is that what you’ve been trying to do?’ Dee asked curiously.

  ‘Just a little. It worked at New Year but-oh, I don’t know. I have to make him realise that I’m here and he’s got to notice me.’

  ‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ Dee warned.

  Sylvia’s response was a wry look that she didn’t understand until later.

  Tom, the young man from three doors down who’d danced with Dee on New Year’s Eve, began to invite her out. Without encouraging him too much, she agreed to the odd trip to the cinema because she was blowed if she was going to spend her time pining for Mark Sellon, thank you very much!

  Tom wasn’t brainy, but he had a cheeky humour that appealed to her. Laughing with him wasn’t the same as laughing with Mark. There was none of the edgy excitement that made it so much more than humour. But Tom could tell a joke well, and they were chuckling together the night they arrived at her home to find Mark there, looking troubled.

  ‘Is something the matter?’ Dee asked quickly.

  ‘No, I’m just waiting for Sylvia. She’s a bit late tonight.’

  ‘I thought she was meeting you in town,’ Dee said, frowning.

  ‘Did she say that?’ Mark said easily. ‘I must have got it wrong. Sorry to trouble you.’ He was out of the door before they could reply.

  ‘Your sister’s got them all running around after her,’ Tom said admiringly.

  ‘Funny,’ Dee mused. ‘I’m sure she said she wasn’t coming home early. Oh, well.’

  Looking back, it was easy to see this as the first ominous sign. The second came later that night when Sylvia returned, beaming and cheerful, and seemed delighted to know Mark had been looking for her.

  ‘Was he very upset?’

  ‘He certainly wasn’t happy. Do you want him to be upset?’

  Sylvia shrugged. ‘It won’t do him any harm to worry about me for a change. He winks at every girl who passes.’

  ‘But that’s just his way.’

  There was a brief pause before Sylvia said, ‘That’s what I used to believe, but now I think it’s more than just a bit of harmless fun. There’s something in him-something I can’t reach because he won’t let me. He seems so outgoing and friendly but it’s an illusion. He keeps the important part of himself hidden. He’ll flirt and play the passionate lover, but that’s not love. Not really. He doesn’t like getting close in other ways.’

  ‘Perhaps he doesn’t trust the idea of love,’ Dee said thoughtfully.

  ‘Why should you say that?’

  ‘I mean after what happened in his childhood-his father leaving and his mother being so withdrawn, you know.’

  ‘No, I don’t know. What are you talking about?’

  So Mark hadn’t told Sylvia what he’d told her, Dee realised. He’d hinted as much but she’d thought that resolution would change as he grew closer to her sister. But it seemed they hadn’t grown closer at all.

  ‘Maybe I’d better ask Mark,’ Sylvia said shrewdly.

  ‘No,’ Dee said quickly. ‘I wasn’t supposed to repeat it. I forgot. It’s just that-’

  Briefly, she outlined what he’d told her about his lonely childhood, and the dog his selfish mother had got rid of without even telling him.

  ‘That woman sounds hateful,’ she finished. ‘However unhappy she was, she had no right to take it out on a child. No wonder he grew up cautious about getting close to people.’

  ‘So that’s why he doesn’t open up to anyone,’ Sylvia mused. ‘Including me. But it seems he talks to you.’

  ‘Because he sees me as a sister. A sister can’t hurt him like you can, so he feels safe talking to me. But don’t tell him I told you.’

  ‘All right, I promise. I’ll keep hoping that he’ll tell me himself, but he won’t, I know that in my heart. You see, I don’t matter to him, or not very much. The other night we were going to meet for a date, and he was nearly an hour late. He made some excuse but I think he was with another girl. I’m sure I could smell her perfume.’

  ‘You’re imagining things,’ Dee said, unwilling to believe the worst of Mark.

  ‘Am I? Maybe. But I resent the time I spend worrying about him. I once thought that he and I would walk off into the sunset and live happily ever after. But now-’ She gave an awkward laugh. ‘If I don’t matter to him, there are plenty of other men who think I matter. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.’

  When Dee finally went to her own room she was puzzled. Whatever Sylvia said, Mark was surely under her spell, even if it was only her physical beauty that had drawn him there. She recalled her mother’s teaching on the subject.

  ‘They all start off wanting just one thing,’ Helen had said. ‘A clever woman uses that to get a ring on her finger.’

  It was the wisdom of the time. Any woman of Helen’s generation, or even Dee’s generation, would have said the same. The idea of risking the wedding ring by playing fast and loose with his affections was sheer madness. Dee knew that she could never have done so if she’d been lucky enough to entrance Mark.

  ‘But that’s not going to happen,’ she told her reflection. ‘He’s never going to gaze at you as if the sun rose and set on you, so shut up, go to bed, forget him and get on with your life.’

  Sometimes lecturing herself helped. Mostly, it didn’t.

  What did help was walking in the evening with Billy, now their mutual friend. ‘You’re crazy about him too, aren’t you?’ she asked the dog as they strolled along.

  Billy gave a soft grunt of agreement. The next moment it had turned into a yelp of delight as a motorbike turned the corner of the road. Even in goggles, it was clearly Mark, and Billy shot ahead so fast that the lead slipped out of Dee’s hand.

  ‘Billy, no!’ she shrieked as the dog went bounding into the road, straight into the path of the speeding motorbike, and to inevitable disaster.

  It was all over in a flash. One moment the bike was b
earing down on the dog; the next moment there was a crash and a yell as the vehicle swerved violently and smashed into a fence. Mark was flung to the ground and lay still.

  ‘Oh, no!’ Dee whispered, running towards him and dropping to her knees beside his frighteningly still form. ‘Mark! Mark!’

  ‘I’m all right,’ he murmured. ‘Go and catch that daft animal before he gets killed.’

  Catching Billy was easy as he’d come to a halt, staring at the mayhem he’d caused and whining. As she secured his lead, Mark was already rising painfully from the ground.

  ‘Are you hurt?’ Dee begged.

  ‘No, just a few bruises,’ he gasped, rubbing himself.

  Doors opened. People came running out. Sylvia had seen everything through a window and was weeping as she threw her arms around him.

  ‘I’m all right,’ he said, staggering slightly.

  Sylvia turned on Dee in fury. ‘Why don’t you keep that animal under control? Mark could have been killed.’

  ‘But I wasn’t,’ he said. ‘It’s not Billy’s fault.’

  ‘No, it was mine,’ Dee said quickly. ‘I’m sorry. Don’t stay out here. Let’s get inside quickly.’

  Leaning on Sylvia, he walked slowly into the house and sat thankfully on the sofa, throwing his head right back, eyes closed.

  ‘Let me have a look at you,’ Dee said.

  ‘I’ve told you, I’m fine.’

  For once she lost her temper. ‘I’m the nurse,’ she snapped. ‘I’ll say if you’re fine.’

  That made him open his eyes. ‘All right, nurse. All right, all right. Whatever you say.’

  She gave him a sulphurous look and started undoing the contraption he wore on his head. It was made of some light metal, barely covering his hair, and if he’d landed on his head it wouldn’t have protected him, but luckily he hadn’t. His shoulder had taken the full impact.

  ‘Fine, let me see your shoulder,’ she said, becoming businesslike.

  Between them, she and Sylvia eased off his jacket, then his shirt, revealing bruises that were already turning a nasty colour.