“Now that I know,” Betty said tartly, “I won’t panic the next time I can’t find you. Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through this past hour, searching every nook and cranny, afraid something was terribly wrong and your dad and I would never find you?”
“Nice to know you care.” It was a familiar pert reply, but Ariel brushed at her eyes and her voice trembled.
It was time for me to slip away. I went down the back stairs, as Ariel and I had done on the previous occasion, and entered the passageway connecting the two parts of the house. I was about to go out into the garden when I heard Ben’s voice.
“I can’t go on like this,” he said. “I’ve never kept Ellie in the dark about anything, so with or without your agreement, Valeria, I’m going to tell her what’s been going on here.”
“And what would that be?” I said, coming out into the open.
11
Ben took a step toward me, but Val laid a hand on his arm. “Please,” she begged, “let me tell her.” Women shouldn’t plead, I thought, from someplace off in the distance, not unless they are incredibly lovely and nothing they do can reduce them. And Val was at her most beautiful at that moment, with the blue of the sky in her eyes and her black hair as glossy as a raven’s wing in the sunlight. I felt all color seep out of me, as Ben nodded and, after looking at me intently, turned on his heel and went into the house.
“So what do you have to tell me?” I asked the woman of the hour, as if this were an entirely casual conversation, with nothing dependent on it other than whether we should stand or sit while it took place. She would have looked good anywhere, in her rose-colored skirt and pale pink top. Would it be rude to nip upstairs and change into something better suited to the moment when my life fell apart?
“Why don’t we get comfortable?” She pointed to a couple of garden chairs under the draped fringe of a willow tree, and we settled ourselves facing each other. It was lovely and warm, so there was no need to hug my arms or battle to repress a shiver. The sky seen through the green canopy showed no sign of raining, as conservatory ceilings sometimes do. There were no heavenly bodies clad only in laurel wreaths on display, no clouds to flake off and drop into our teacups. But I thought determinedly of Mr. Tribble and how cold he must be now. It would be appropriate to send flowers, but should the card be signed from Ben as well as myself? Suddenly I would have given anything for a plate of chocolate biscuits to float my way or to be wearing red. I look horrible in red, but it is a brave, defiant color. All I could do was put a wobbly smile on my face and say, “I’m all ears, Val.”
“You’re going to think me a deceiving wretch.”
“Whatever makes you think that?” Sarcasm was wasted on her.
“Ben told me that one of things he most loves about you is your honesty.”
“That was kind of him.” I would have preferred a mention of my fabulous figure, winning charm, and ineffable grace, but at such times one settles for crumbs.
“He said”-she looked at me with wonderfully sad eyes-“you hate deceit, and if you knew what was going on it would be bound to show in your face, and every time you looked at either Tom or Betty you’d be miserably uncomfortable.”
“Why them in particular?” I asked, and again the sarcasm sailed overhead like a bluebird.
“Because Betty doesn’t know that, long before she met Tom, he and I planned on getting married.”
“What?”
“His parents broke it up because I wasn’t a Roman Catholic, and that was a must for their daughter-in-law.”
I sat utterly still for fear that if I didn’t I would fall through my chair.
“Shortly afterward, Tom married his first wife. I heard they’d had a daughter, but I never saw him again until I came here to see my great-aunt and discovered that he and Betty had bought this house. My immediate reaction was to turn tail and run, but once I saw Aunt Valeria was declining rapidly and was no longer fit to be left alone, I knew I had to stay. So I talked to Tom, and we both agreed there was no good reason to tell Betty about us. It was well in the past…”
“Yes?” I prompted, as life and feeling flowed back into me.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed she’s the insecure, volatile type. Why upset her unnecessarily, particularly when Ariel would probably get the backlash?”
“And Ben was worried that if I knew I’d give the game away?”
“I was the one who was afraid you might unintentionally let something slip.” Val leaned toward me, full of apology. “Ben’s concern was that being in the secret would make you intensely uncomfortable and you’d think it wrong of him not to have things out with Tom, which I didn’t want him to do. Finally, he gave me his promise that he wouldn’t tell you. But just now he said he couldn’t continue to keep you in the dark. That the two of you don’t have that sort of marriage; it was causing a strain between you and he wasn’t prepared to sacrifice your peace of mind for mine.”
I became aware that the air was sprinkled with birdsong and the sun had laid a golden scarf around my shoulders. Every breath was perfumed; every flower bloomed more brightly than it had done moments before. This was not the moment to dwell on my folly in doubting Ben’s love for me. He had told me about Tom’s broken love affair with a girl he had called his wild Irish Rose. No wonder that term had kept popping into my mind. But I had been prey to my insecurities. Who better than I to understand how Betty might have reacted to the reality?
“Has Tom said anything to Ben about his recognizing you?”
“Not a word. I knew he wouldn’t if not confronted. Tom was always an ostrich, ready to put his head in the sand and let the world sort itself out. It’s what made it easy for his parents to decide what was best for him. By the time he looked back up it was all settled.”
“You know him very well.”
“Do you think me wretchedly deceitful?” Her smile was rueful, her eyes shadowed with unhappiness.
“You found yourself in a situation that you tried to make less difficult.”
“Thank you.”
Impossible not to warm to her. Her beauty had such a wholesome quality. She was this lovely garden, she was a leafy lane in the dew of morning… Happiness was turning me into a poet almost of Mrs. Malloy’s equal. The thought of this personage brought her sharply to mind. I even imagined for a couple of seconds that I caught a glimpse of a black-and-white head topping a row of shrubbery. How, I wondered, had I previously seen Val as the scheming femme fatale? Envy gave way to sympathy for her… and Betty. Which of them, if either, did Tom truly love?
“It must have been a shock Saturday when you walked through the door and saw Ben in the hall,” I said.
“Yes.” The rose-petal lips trembled. “I’d only met him a few times. He was Tom’s cousin; they both worked in his uncle Sol’s restaurant. He didn’t know me well enough to call me Val. Only my closest friends used the shortened version of my name at that time. In those days I thought Valeria sounded more sophisticated, but it’s always been a bit of a mouthful for everyday conversation.”
“Was Tom worried when Ben recognized you?”
She looked away from me and glanced over her shoulder as if looking to see if anyone was about. But when she turned back I wondered if she’d needed a moment to collect her thoughts. Her voice came out tight and higher than usual, and there was a suspicion of tears in her eyes.
“I think what really upset Tom was that he realized something when he saw me looking at Ben that I had never wanted anyone to know, let alone him… and now you.”
“What’s that?”
“Even though I had only met him a few times, it was Ben I fell in love with. One of those at-first-sight things. You more than anyone else would know why.” Her eyes implored me to understand. “He had no idea. I made no impression on him at all; I might have been the wallpaper. Believe me”-she laughed shakily-“if I’d thought I had the whisper of a chance I’d have tried for him, but I knew it was hopeless. He’s not a man who can be m
anipulated into falling in love. I really should be unbearably jealous of you, Ellie, but I can’t be. There isn’t room for any other strong emotion. Good to hear?”
“I hope one day you meet the ideal person.” I meant it. “Do you think Tom recognized the true state of your feelings when he saw you standing with Ben?”
“I’m sure he did. I know it was there-in my eyes, my whole body language. You must have realized too.”
I nodded.
“That’s why I thought I should get everything out in the open with you. Ben hasn’t a clue as to how I felt about him. It’s up to you if you want to tell him.” She sounded tired.
“There are some secrets I can keep.” I sounded like Mrs. Cake. “It’s a matter of deciding which ones they should be.”
“It would only hurt Tom if I told him at this juncture that the only reason I agreed to marry him all those years ago was that it might as well have been him as anyone else. He’s a dear man, I really cared about him and still do, but when it came down to it I was relieved that his parents broke up the match.” I kept listening, as I would have with a friend.
“Aunt Valeria has a feeling she won’t live much longer, and I sense she may be right. The moment I’m no longer needed here, I’ll get out of Tom and Betty’s lives. It’s been so awkward. I’ve felt so guilty toward her that I’ve probably gone overboard trying to be helpful. The decorating started with her asking my advice about wallpaper and mushroomed into her asking me to do all the decorating and help her pick new clothes. You’ve no idea how I’ve felt at times, with her being so trusting. I’ve tried so hard to encourage her to make her own choices, particularly about what to wear. She would look so much better if she got the right fit.”
“I know,” I said, thinking of the too-large suits. “It’ll take time for Betty to adjust to her new lifestyle, but what will make the real difference is if she and Ariel can reach a better understanding and Tom helps to pull them all together as a family.”
“Thank you, Ellie, for hearing me out.” Val got to her feet. “I’d better get back to the Dower House. Aunt Valeria was in a real tizzy this morning.”
“I’m sorry.” I also stood up. “Old age can be sad.”
“I’m fond of her. She gave my brother, Simon, and me a wonderful holiday here when were children. Of course I always knew she could be difficult with others, but she never was with me, until now, and that’s only occasionally when her mind really seems to slip.”
“It must be a strain,” I said.
“She kept talking this morning about there being people she hasn’t seen in years who’ve snubbed her by passing down the road in full view of the Dower House without coming in to see her. And then she got really worked up because there were letters or photos she wanted to look at in the top of her bureau and she couldn’t find the key. She’s always misplacing it. But she accused me of hiding it, to prevent her from finding evidence that old Reverend Mr. Tribble was not talking through his hat when he said he was sure he’d officiated at Lady Fiona’s marriage to someone other than Nigel Gallagher. I only hope Aunt Valeria forgets all about it before her ladyship takes her out on Wednesday, or things could turn nasty. She told me she’s primed to speak her piece. Even if I hadn’t known Ben wanted to talk to me, I would have needed to get away to clear my head.”
Val looked at her watch.
“I’ve been gone long enough, I have to get back before she comes out looking for me, the way she did Saturday night.”
I said I remembered, and we parted a little awkwardly. We were two strangers who had shared an unusual conversation. Under the circumstances, I couldn’t resent her telling me that she was in love with my husband. She had been right to do so. Perhaps she realized that I had made unfounded assumptions about Ben’s feelings for her. I found myself somewhat embarrassed at the thought of facing him but was delayed in going back into the house when Mrs. Malloy popped around the shrubbery.
“Well, that was interesting.” She enthroned herself in the chair Val had vacated. And to think I hadn’t even requested an audience. “Of course I’d not the least intention of listening, Mrs. H. I came looking for you to see how your talk with Mrs. Cake went.”
“How much did you hear without your ear trumpet?”
“No need to be snippy; I didn’t want to move in case she heard me and got extra embarrassed. Too sensitive to other people’s feelings, I am, but isn’t it a relief all’s cleared up for you and Mr. H? I can tell you now I was worried meself, for all I made light of things to you. It kept coming back to me what the real Madam LaGrange said about an old girlfriend showing up and causing problems for a woman with the name beginning with E.”
I sat back down. “When you saw my reaction, you said it might have been a B. Did Madam LaGrange add that, or did you throw it in to make me feel better?”
“If I told you she said it, then she did,” Mrs. Malloy replied huffily; then her painted eyebrows shot up. “I see what you’re getting at! It was Betty that Madam was talking about. She has the gift for sure! Now I’m back to being worried about what else she said.”
“That’s understandable.” My mind had drifted to Ben and what I would say to him. Wives are such fools might be a good beginning. When I said this to Mrs. Malloy, she poked me with her finger.
“You’ll continue being one if you believe everything you hear. I’ll tell you, now you’re so keen on Val, that there’s something about her gets right up my snout.”
I changed the subject. “Any more tries to get hold of Madam LaGrange?”
“Still getting her voice mail. Mrs. Cake say anything interesting?”
“I expect it was much the same as what she told you. Did she mention that your sister, Melody, does have a gentleman friend?”
“She did, but I couldn’t get a name out of her. Said it wasn’t for her to say. My guess is he’s the friend Mel was seeing Saturday night but canceled to spend time with me. She made it sound like it was a woman.”
“That’s probably because she talked about a shared love of knitting.”
“I suppose.” Mrs. Malloy pursed her lips. “If she wants to keep him interested, she needs to do something about her appearance. Wear bright colors and stay away from black.”
“No, I don’t suppose it suits her as well as it does you.”
“Never did. Even when Mel was a baby she didn’t look good in black.”
“And maybe if she were to do something about that bad perm.” It was something to say, rather than a desire to be catty. I was wondering if I had been too eager to believe Val when she’d assured me Ben had no feelings for her.
“Melody doesn’t need a perm. That’s her natural curl.”
“Conditioner,” I murmured.
While my mind continued to float, Mrs. Malloy recounted her conversation with Mrs. Cake. When she finished, I said that when it came to the main points the story was the same. Forcing myself to concentrate, I asked if she had managed to connect with Milk Jugg on the phone.
“He wasn’t what you’d call thrilled to hear from me, but I soon put him in his place, Mrs. H, the upshot being that he’s going to check into whether Lady Fiona was married to this other man, who from what Mrs. Cake said would be Mr. Gallagher’s cousin. I told Milk as how you and me needed all the particulars he could come up with, and we didn’t want to be left tapping our feet too long. ‘Course, he went on about how strapped he is for time right now.”
“That may well be true.” I was once more convinced Val had told me the unabridged truth.
“Whatever, Mrs. H! The best I could get out of him was that he’d get back to me in a few days.”
“There’s an idea that came to me while I was talking with Mrs. Cake. It has to do with Melody and her desire to get into Mr. Scrimshank’s safe and have a look at his records of the Gallaghers’ finances. Mavis told me yesterday when I stopped to chat with her in the hall that her husband is a locksmith. According to her, he’s so good he can break into anything. I’ve also le
arned, via Mrs. Cake, that Mavis is extremely fond of her ladyship. Perhaps if Mavis were to speak to her husband and got his okay, Melody could phone and ask the husband to come to the office and try and open the safe at a time when Mr. Scrimshank won’t be around. What do you think?”
“Maybe it’d be best to say as little as possible to the man, in case he refuses for fear of getting into trouble with the law. I’m going to see Melody later; she told me this evening would suit her. I’ll tell her what we’ve been thinking, and if she’s for it you and me can have a word on the subject with Mrs. Cake tomorrow.”
We agreed it was a plan, and I went into the house to face my husband. He was in the kitchen and fortunately alone. Not for the first time, I wondered how many men looked as wonderful as he did in a pair of faded jeans and an equally old sweatshirt, especially when holding a saucepan in one hand and a couple of tomatoes with the other. On seeing me, he laid these items down and came toward me.
“You and Valeria talked?” He placed his hands on my shoulders.
“She said you insisted she do so.”
“I should never have made that promise not to tell you about her and Tom. I have this thing about keeping my word, even if it’s nonsense.”
“I know.”
“At first it seemed to make sense. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable every time you looked at Tom and Betty when Valeria was there or her name was mentioned. What I overlooked was the fact that you were bound to figure out the state of affairs for yourself and wonder why I was in collusion with a woman I barely knew.”
“I thought you did know her… very well. I convinced myself that you were in love with each other.”
“What?”
I pressed my fingers to his lips. “That’s the way it looked to me, the way you froze before walking blindly toward her. How your face shut down when your eyes met mine.”
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