by Gloria Cook
Alan was at school and Martha was napping with her new kitten on a scrap of eiderdown on the deep window seat. There was a contented smile on Martha’s sweet little face. She couldn’t destroy that. And why should she?
‘Never mind what you lot think!’ Elena told the absent gossips. ‘Things will stay as they are.’ Jim was an uncle to the children. And to she herself, he was… she wouldn’t think about that now. It made the nerves in her tummy swarm and her heart jump about. Get on with the cake. Or you’ll let everyone down.
She had plenty of time to bake something special. She must get back to the recipe book. Concentrate. Jim wouldn’t be here until six o’clock.
Well, he wasn’t supposed to be. But he was here now, tapping on the back kitchen door and coming inside.
Elena was stuck to the chair. The strength went out of her hands and she let the cookery book thump down on the table. She didn’t even blink and was just aware that the sudden noise had not caused Martha to stir.
Jim was about to speak, to mention that he had some lumber in the van and… he forgot what he intended to do with it here. ‘Elena? What’s the matter? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’
‘What? I… I. Jim! I mean, Jim. I was thinking about you. And… and then here you are.’ As if suddenly recovering from a shock she was up on her feet and heading for the kettle. ‘You, um, shouldn’t be here.’ The words fell in a rush out of her mouth. ‘No, I didn’t mean that. I mean, I mean, yes, I was about to make your cake. You shouldn’t see it yet. The children want it to be a surprise. Not that it’s finished yet. I haven’t even started it. Look, I, look, you sit down. I’ll make you some tea.’
Jim came up behind her. Close to her. Elena was trembling from head to foot. ‘I think I should be making some tea for you.’
‘I couldn’t let you do that.’ She swallowed the lump that was nearly choking her, and kept her eyes on the copper kettle, trying to make sense of her convex reflection in it. She must really look just like that at the moment. Strange and distorted.
To Jim, she looked lovely. He could smell the sweetness of her. He saw that nearly all the pins had fallen out of her bun. Her hair was just about spilled all over her shoulders. Without hesitating he pulled out those last pins.
She didn’t object. She didn’t object to anything he did or said: there had never been an occasion when they had got in each other’s way, or been irritated, or done anything against the other’s comfort. Jim was so comfortable to be with. She realized now that she had looked forward to each of his visits.
Elena was comfortable to be with. And she was peaceful. And warm. And kind. And wonderfully innocent. And feminine. And perfect. Perfect for him.
Martha woke up. Rubbed her eyes, saw her aunt and uncle together and thought there was nothing unusual about it. ‘I’m going outside with Daisy.’
‘You do that, sweetheart,’ Jim said softly, without moving.
Elena turned round and smiled at the little girl. Her voice was as soft as thistledown. ‘Remember to keep your sun hat on, darling.’
Martha left the kitchen. Elena glanced into Jim’s eyes and gazed down, her face a soft pink, then she looked up at him again.
‘Shall we stay here?’ he whispered.
She nodded.
The last tress of her hair fell down and he used the back of a finger to gently brush it away from her face. Then he lightly took hold of her and pulled her slowly towards him until her face was resting against his chest. She wrapped her arms around him and sank into his strength. He placed a kiss on the top of her head and closed his eyes, happy to begin an unhurried, perfect romance.
Chapter Seventeen
Emilia was in the infirmary at Truro, waiting for Alec in the corridor outside the clinic of the consultant he was seeing. There were seats, but she couldn’t keep still and paced the echoing floor of the corridor, almost unaware of the strong disinfectant smell and the human traffic passing up and down: brisk, efficient-looking nurses, porters carrying stores, a gaily whistling cleaner, long-faced relatives going up to the wards. Then she saw a patient, a small boy with his mother, and the fear in his little drawn face and the anxiety in hers.
She was as anxious for Alec as the mother was for her son, but seemingly Alec had no fear in him. After all the tests and examinations and X-rays he had undergone in the last few days, he had asked that he be alone with the consultant, as calmly as if intending to go the Red Lion Hotel here in town for lunch.
‘I’ll be all right, darling,’ he’d said, while getting ready to leave home that morning, casually winding a tie around his neck. But he’d looked pale and gaunt in his second-best suit. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been a worry to you. I should have agreed to seek medical advice long before. But I’m feeling fine now. Getting better every day. I promise I’ll start eating properly. I’ll soon regain my weight, you’ll see.’
‘But darling, you’re still getting terrible headaches.’ She had put on a two-piece, fitted, belted suit and T-bar shoes, and brought him a pair of well-polished brogues. He sat on a chair to put them on. He fumbled with the laces and Emilia tied them for him.
‘Thanks, darling.’ He rubbed at the back of his neck. ‘Look, all that’s the matter is just a bit of tension here. Well, I did take quite a thump when I fell off the ladder that day. I’m sure it’s what’s been causing the pain. I really must stand up straighter and ease everything with a bit of exercise.’ He put his hands on her waist and squeezed, smiling into her eyes. It was the first time he’d touched her affectionately for ages. ‘I’ll have to get you to massage my neck and shoulders.’
‘I’d love to.’ She stepped closer to him, winding her arms round his waist, and he did the same to her. They’d stayed like that for some minutes, his head on the side of hers. Content and quietly together. And Emilia knew that whatever the consultant might say, she couldn’t bear to lose Alec. As they slipped out of the embrace her mind was flooded with thoughts of Perry and her heart was weighed down in sorrow. It was a torment to love two men.
At the bottom of the stairs Dolly and Edwin Rowse, Tilda and Lottie were lined up to see Alec off. Alec made a joke of it, then as he got to the door he backtracked and picked Lottie up. He kissed both her cheeks. She stared at him from amazed, suspicious eyes. He’d said, ‘Daddy will bring you back something nice from town.’
At last the door of the clinic opened and Alec appeared, shaking the medic’s hand. ‘Ready, darling?’ Alec said cheerily. ‘Off we go then.’
‘What did he say? Mr Wilson?’ She walked in sidesteps so she could see his face. He merely tucked her arm in his and led the way out of the bleak, grey stone infirmary.
‘Alec, please.’
He took a long, deep breath and leaned his head back so he could take in the summer sky of deep blue and softly rounded white clouds. ‘Everything’s going to be all right, Emilia. I said so, didn’t I? Mr Wilson’s advised that because I’m presently so tired and sometimes feel light-headed that I shouldn’t drive or operate the farm machinery.’
‘But you will get better? The headaches will stop?’
‘Oh, yes, darling. Eventually.’ He lowered his head and kissed her lips. ‘I do love you. You know that, don’t you?’
‘Of course I do.’ She hugged him, her body sagging in relief. ‘I love you. I’ve been so afraid for you. Is it all something to do with the accident?’
‘All inevitable in the circumstances, that’s what Mr Wilson said. Look, darling, would you mind looking round the shops or something? I’d like to buy that storybook Lottie wants. Jack’s African Adventure, isn’t it? Then I thought I’d meet the boys from school. Treat them to eats at Opie’s. Is that all right? No need to pick us up in the car. We’ll catch the five-fifty bus home.’
He seemed positive and happy, and Emilia was pleased to agree with him. They kissed goodbye and she watched him stride down the steep Infirmary Hill and turn into Charles Street. His head was up and he had his hands nonchalantly in his trouser pockets. She
got into the car, parked on the hill, and with more relief surging through her she stayed a moment with her face in her hands. Then she drove the short journey to Highertown, leaving the car a discreet distance from Perry’s temporary home.
Perry answered her knock on the door. ‘Darling Em! What a lovely surprise. I’ve just come inside from the back garden, I’ve been putting in bedding plants. You’re smiling. I take it Alec’s going to be fine?’
She was instantly in Perry’s arms. ‘He’s going to get better. He seems so different now. Oh, Perry, it’s been so awful.’
He held her tight, crushed her to him. ‘I know.’ Perry was genuinely pleased that Alec had no terrible disease, and as a medic his mind had gone over several terrifying possibilities. His feelings over the last few days had been torn. Alec was the only one standing in the way of him and Em being together. If it had proved that Alec was in for something terrible then that would be fate, there would be nothing anyone could do about it, and after a suitable time he could have claimed the woman he loved so much. But he didn’t wish Alec dead or struck down by some debilitating condition which would mean it would be easier for him to see Em. It had been a horrible wait for the results of the tests. He and Em had succeeded in spending some time alone but they had not made love. It would have been a tasteless, almost a ghoulish thing to do.
Now Em was kissing him differently, demandingly, filling him with desire. ‘Let’s go upstairs,’ he said.
He was able to climb stairs as easily as someone with two good legs. In the large, sun-filled double bedroom he was using, he held her at arm’s length. ‘Let me look at you, really look at you.’ He gazed at her and he studied her, every tiny part of her, imprinting her in his mind and on his heart, for he knew he would soon have to withdraw from her life again or he might tear her apart. All the while she kept her eyes fixed on him, adoring him. He touched her hair tenderly with his fingertips, then every approach and angle of her face, and her smooth, soft throat. He traced his hands gently, searchingly, along her shoulders, down over her arms, her wrists, finally grasping her hands, imprisoning them in his. ‘You’re so beautiful, Em. It seems centuries since we were here like this and almost every moment of my life without you has seemed wasted.’
‘Don’t say that, Perry.’ She caressed his gorgeous face. ‘You’ve had all those years with Libby.’
He glanced up at the ceiling, disquiet in his expression.
‘What is it, Perry?’
‘You’ve had too much to worry about over Alec, so I haven’t mentioned this before. Somehow, darling, I think I’ve failed Libby. Of course, she’s had no good maternal influence in her life but I don’t think that what I’ve done has been enough. She’s so unhappy. She’s morose and difficult for the best part of the time and seems incapable of making friends. She hasn’t any of the sort of steel and ambition that drives Selina, and Selina continually pushes her to be a high achiever. Even in her last letter Selina asked about exams. It puts Libby under pressure. The only things that interest Libby are the things she can do alone. I fear for her future.’
‘Oh, Perry, I’m sorry you’ve been going through this. But I think you may have been worrying yourself unnecessarily. I was talking to Tristan over the telephone yesterday and he said that Libby seems perfectly happy trotting about after Jonny, and he’s finding it rather amusing. She’s spending lots of time with Vera Rose discussing girl stuff and giggling. Vera Rose will help her to grow up and gain confidence. Everyone is impressed at how well she can swim – that must be making Libby feel happy. I’m sure all Libby needs is some fun. And she’s made friends now. That will help her to feel special. You’ve taken her things to Roskerne. You’ve phoned her since then. Did she seem happy?’
‘Now I’m thinking about it, yes, she did. But I don’t think she’ll feel the same way when we return to London.’ He went on in a tone of desolation. ‘Em, I’d love to move back here but our feelings for each other would soon be discovered. It would destroy everyone we care for.’
Emilia gathered him against herself. ‘Don’t be miserable, Perry, darling. Let’s not think about that now.’ She didn’t want to face up to him going away from her again.
‘I’m sorry, Em. We should be making the most of this time together.’
He kissed her neck in delicate tiny kisses, making her shiver at each delicious contact. She kissed him in the same way, all over the area where his skin was exposed by his open shirt. They seared each other’s lips with loving, insistent kisses.
She loved his warm, sensitive hands, and pulled them from around her and kissed each of his palms, placing firm, slow kisses down to his wrists and then up and down every finger. ‘I’ve missed you so much, Perry. I’ve missed being with you. I’ve missed your touch and want it so much.’ She kissed his lips, one at a time, tasting him; so wonderful again. ‘I love your mouth. I love your body. I want you so much, all of you.’
‘You have me, my dear, sweet, darling Em,’ he said, taking her to the bed. ‘All of me, now and for always.’
* * *
The young people at Roskerne had taken deckchairs, towels, play things and a picnic down to the beach. With them were Angeline Johnson and Christine Shaw. The tide was on its way out and there were hours in which to relax and have fun. The sun was high, a magnificent golden globe, the air was hot and fresh and almost comatose. It was the sort of day to laze in, the sort that if enjoyed would be remembered for years, perhaps a lifetime.
Libby was wearing sunglasses and a pink, ruched bathing suit, bought at an exclusive West End fashion store in London, and an expensive cotton sun hat. She had never felt more confident. Vera Rose had said she looked lovely. So Jonny would think so too – it was bliss to be anywhere near him. Vera Rose had been kind to her during the last few days. Arranging her hair differently with waving combs. Spraying her with scent, even her favourite Flowers of Spring, given to her by Jonny. Lending her frocks; they were only a little too big and old for her. Mrs Harvey had showered her with thoughtfulness and had said she would be a lovely young woman one day, that she was lovely now. When Libby looked into her dressing-table mirror she found herself smiling back. She didn’t see her reflection as lovely, but it wasn’t one she quickly hid from any longer. There was the fairy tale about an ugly ducking who turned into a beautiful swan. For Mrs Harvey to pay such a compliment she must see that she was destined to be a swan.
Libby had stunned the household last evening when she had appeared wearing the dress bartered for over her good behaviour at Ben Harvey’s dinner party. She had pushed ankle socks into her brassiere and thought she had made herself a very fine bosom. Jonny must have thought so. He had stared at her, then, unusually for him, he had blushed and busied himself with his napkin. He had noticed her! From being all jolly and sometimes superior with her, as he was with little Adele, he saw her now as a blossoming woman. Unfortunately, Angeline Johnson had been there, having got a member of staff at the hotel to check on the brat under her care, and the condescending cow had smirked at her. The nanny was jealous because she wanted Jonny all to herself. She was at Roskerne and on the beach a lot, always whispering to him in corners, distracting Jonny’s attention from her, making him turn his back on her. Getting Jonny to walk her and Christine back to the hotel.
Libby was hopeful she’d get Jonny alone for a while in the sea. The little girls preferred to splash about in the rock pools, Angeline Johnson only ever dipped her toes in the water, and Vera Rose was inclined to laze and sunbathe in beach pyjamas. Libby pushed her deckchair nearer to Jonny’s, and listened in on the three older ones’ conversation.
‘I had a postcard from Louisa today,’ Vera Rose said. ‘She’s touring the South of France with her aunt, but she mentioned she might be back before the end of the hols.’
‘That would be nice. Louisa’s a childhood friend of ours, from Truro,’ Jonny explained to Angeline, unaware he was referring to his half-sister. ‘Haven’t seen her for ages.’ He didn’t understand why but h
e had a special rapport with Louisa Hetherton-Andrews, whose surname was taken from the now-dead brother and widowed sister who had adopted her. ‘She never comes here though. Father doesn’t approve of her for some reason and she senses it. It’s strange. My Uncle Alec, Aunty Em and Uncle Ben adore her. She’s an adorable girl.’ He wished he hadn’t added that last sentence. Angeline might think there was more to his feelings than friendship, but Angeline just smiled. She wasn’t the jealous type. While she relaxed in her deckchair, Angeline was writing a letter. She was always writing to Christine’s parents. She telephoned them a lot too. She was a conscientious nanny and Christine was obviously an adored child. It hit Jonny then that Angeline really loved Christine, and although she was friendly with him she didn’t seem to be looking for anything closer, not even a holiday romance. He wanted her badly. He had never gone this long without sex before and he was getting fearfully frustrated. Libby, the bloody little pest, kept pressing up against him, flirting with him in her daft childish way, and it didn’t help. She’d been persistent all morning and he’d got the awful urge to push her out of the way and grab Angeline’s hand and suggest they leave the little girls in Vera Rose’s care and go for a walk along the beach. The tide was way out and the little smuggler’s cove, with its deep cave, was accessible. It was a perfect place for making love, one he’d used before.
Libby didn’t like the sound of this Louisa. The affectionate way Jonny had spoken of her just now meant that if this girl suddenly turned up here, she’d stand no chance with him. Women adored Jonny. The nanny had paused in her correspondence and was smiling at him. A glance at Vera Rose, and Libby saw that she too was smitten with him. Libby’s new-found self-belief made her determined she wasn’t about to be forgotten.