Songbird

by Bell, Julia

  I looked into eager blue eyes and bit my lip.

  But in bed that night, I lay there a long time, staring at the ceiling. I had been terribly overprotective of my son and I realised I must let him go. I would worry about him but I must overcome that. I had been told many times that I was mollycoddling him, but I had brushed off the comments as nonsense. It was strange that Karl’s words had hit home more than Nan and Diamond’s. Or Miss Rupp’s.

  My thoughts drifted back to Karl and the card he had given me. I had placed it in the leather-bound address book that had been my gift from Lord and Lady Waltham on the night of the Christmas ball. How handsome and sincere Karl had looked when he had given me his card. His eyes had told me that he meant every word. Slipping out of bed, I padded across to the dressing table and took the white card from the address book. I couldn’t read it in the firelight and so stood quietly, staring into the flames and caressing it with my fingertips. Suddenly, I remembered the house in Gibson Place; I remembered our luncheons together and the lively discussions. Then I remembered the bedroom and the overpowering feelings. The tears and the despair. And the passion.

  Desire flooded through me and I ran across the carpet, flinging myself down on the bed. I buried my face in the pillow gasping at my memories.

  Eventually, I turned over to stare at the flames leaping in the grate. “Oh, Karl…” I whispered and then pulled myself up abruptly. “Not Karl…Brett. I love you. But how can I tell you?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  I sat in the window seat, my thoughts jumbled and bewildered. I had had a restless night, tossing and turning with dreams that disturbed me. My anger towards Brett was far more preferable than this, I thought dismally. Anger was more manageable than these overwhelming feelings of desire that were now burning me up. He was right, I was a passionate woman, but I had concentrated all my time and effort on my work, my singing. The exhausting schedule at Covent Garden had often drained me of energy and all I had wanted was to go home and sleep. But now my mind and body were in turmoil. I dug my nails into the palm of my hand and remembered that Brett was a married man. His declarations of love the previous day, no matter how sincere, had been wrong. I refused to tell him that I felt the same and had done so for seven years. God knows what would happen if he discovered the truth.

  It was raining again, the drops hitting the panes of glass with the force of the wind. But in the west I could see patches of blue sky and I wondered if the poor weather would pass over and we would enjoy some of the day in bright sunshine. I hoped so, I desperately wanted to walk outside.

  I went down to breakfast. Brett was in conversation with Lord Waltham and they rose from their chairs as I entered the room.

  I murmured a cheery ‘good morning’ and helped myself to the food set out on the sideboard. I took my place at the table and the footman stepped forward to fill my cup with coffee.

  “You’re looking much better, Mrs Asquith,” said Lord Waltham. “You have more colour in your cheeks.”

  “Thank you, my lord. I do feel a lot better.”

  Brett gave me a tender smile. “I think Mrs Asquith needs some fresh air. Perhaps we should take a trip into Basingstoke to the Christmas fair this afternoon.”

  Lord Waltham nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, indeed. My wife spoke about it and said that if the rain ceases it would make a wonderful excursion for us all.”

  “There’s plenty to see,” said Brett, picking up the paper and reading it. “Lots of stalls, food and drink sold in various tents. A fire-eater would you believe and also a certain Madam Zakina who will tell you your fortune. And rides for the children.”

  He passed the paper to me and I took it, glancing quickly over the advertisement. The fair did look interesting and if we all went then it would be an entertaining afternoon away from the house.

  I nodded in agreement. “If everyone is of the same mind, then I’m quite happy to go along with the plan.” I gulping down my coffee. “Will your wife be going?” I said, turning to Lord Shelbrook.

  He shook his head. “Angelique would find it too strenuous.”

  Although I had tried to sound eager, I didn’t know if I could bear to be in Brett’s company for too long. I was so afraid that a look, a gesture would betray my feelings for him. I concentrated on eating my breakfast and the footman came to refill my cup. Since the paper was in front of me, I carried on reading it, as the two lords resumed their conversation. Then I saw something that made my heart thud and an audible cry escaped my lips.

  They turned to me.

  “Is everything all right?” said Lord Waltham, frowning.

  “Oh, just that…” I thought quickly. “The Marriage of Figaro is playing at Covent Garden.”

  His expression became animated. “So I have heard! Miss Emmeline Barri, the toast of all London. I have friends who have seen her and can’t speak too highly of her. They say her singing sets your senses aflame.”

  “Do you mean your ears hurt with the din and your eyes ache with trying to stay awake,” Brett quipped.

  “I know you never attend the opera, but Penelope and I will definitely go next time we visit the capital,” said Lord Waltham, smiling.

  “Don’t you like opera?” I asked Brett, fluttering my eyelashes.

  “No, I don’t.” His lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile.

  The earl turned to him. “You could be missing out on a wonderful experience. Those who first saw Miss Barri in Carmen thought she was beautiful and with a figure that was very seductive.”

  I subdued my delight. “Did they really?”

  “They did and her singing was described as heavenly. So, The Marriage of Figaro will not disappoint us when we visit the capital in the spring.”

  “Well rather you than me,” said Brett, grimacing.

  “I do believe The Marriage of Figaro is playing only until February,” I ventured.

  The earl frowned. “Is it? Oh dear. We’ll have to see her in something else and I’m sure it will be just as enjoyable.”

  I went back to my breakfast, sure in the knowledge that should Lord and Lady Waltham attend Covent Garden they would never recognise me on stage in makeup, wig and costume.

  The rain was easing off, but it was still too wet to venture outdoors. I had no idea where the children were. I tried not to worry about Danny. Every morning he and the girls would set off on their adventures and since he was happy it was better to leave it that way. I found myself in the long gallery once more, only this time I stood at one of the long, narrow windows, staring out at the garden. My attention became riveted on the silver raindrops streaming down the glass and I began to trace my finger along the route of one that was slowly meandering down, collecting others on the way, becoming fatter and then moving at a brisker pace. I smiled with my memories and finding a smaller one at the top, I began to tap it gently with my forefinger.

  “What on earth are you doing?” asked Brett, laughing with amusement.

  “Why do you keep sneaking up on me?” I said, without turning to look at him.

  “I’m not sneaking up on you. I saw you at the window and wondered what you were doing.”

  “Raindrop racing.” Seeing his confused expression I added, “You obviously didn’t play it as a child?”

  “Not that I remember.”

  “Gwilym and I would, when it was raining and we had to stay indoors.” I turned to the handsome man standing by my side. “You each find a raindrop and then you tap it and try to make it run faster down the glass. The one that gets to the bottom first, is the winner. Shall we play?”

  “If you wish.”

  We each found a raindrop and there followed five minutes of hilarity as we tapped the glass, causing the droplets to run faster. I won.

  “I’ve had more experience than you,” I said. “But you must teach Emily. It will keep her amused for hours.”

  “I take it that Gwilym is your brother?”

  I nodded. “Yes, he’s two years older.”
/>
  “And what does he do?”

  “He’s in the Merchant Navy, serving as a medical officer.”

  “On what ship?”

  I looked at him and bit my lip. “The Dorothy-May,” I said quietly.

  He remained silent for a few seconds before saying matter-of-factly, “The ship that took you to France.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “I helped Mrs Holland plan your trip.”

  “Yes, I suppose you did,” I sighed.

  “It must be quite an adventure for him, but lonely being away from his family.”

  I couldn’t help grinning. “He’s with his wife, so he’s far from lonely.”

  “Is he now. That is interesting.” He studied me. “Are you going to tell me what you found distressing in the paper this morning?”

  “What makes you think I saw anything distressing?”

  He threw back his head and gave a pleasant laugh. “I know you well enough by now, my sweet Isabelle, to know when you’re hiding the truth.”

  “It’s silly really.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I suddenly noticed the date.” He frowned in bewilderment so I explained, “It’s the twentieth of December. The anniversary of the mining accident.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  I looked down at my fingers, clenched together in a tight knot. “Nine years…” My voice became choked and my eyes filled. “The strangest thing is that I’d completely forgotten that it was today. It’s the first time I’ve woken up and not remembered when it’s been the anniversary.”

  “It means you’re moving on. Putting it in the past and that’s good,” he said gently.

  I knew I was leaning too close to him. “But when I do remember, the pain tears me apart. I wonder if that will ever go away.”

  “It will, but it might take a little time yet.”

  Our eyes met and I became transfixed, drowning in the depths of his blue-green eyes. And then he slowly bent his face closer to mine, his lips parted, his eyelids half-closed. I knew he was going to kiss me, I wanted him to kiss me and raised my chin expectantly. His lips brushed mine ever so lightly and a quiver coursed through me. I trembled when his fingers caressed the back of my neck and then he pressed his mouth down on mine, making me moan softly. It wasn’t a long kiss, only a matter of seconds, but when he raised his head, his eyes were darker, a gentle smile playing on his lips. Oh God, I thought, he knows the truth.

  The sound of running feet made me pull away from him.

  “Mrs Asquith, where are you? You said we could go out if it stopped raining and it has.” Emily’s voice echoed down the gallery.

  In seconds, we were surrounded by three boisterous children demanding our attention.

  I was glad to be outside. The morning seemed fresh and clean now that the sun had appeared in a vivid blue sky. The heady fragrance of moist grass filled my nostrils and I breathed deeply, filling my lungs with country air.

  “Where shall we go?” I asked the children.

  “Let’s go down by the river,” said Danny.

  “We always go there,” said Abigail.

  “I like to see the water moving,” he said, with more patience than could be expected of one so young.

  “It’s boring and anyway, haven’t you seen a river before, City Boy.”

  “We have the Thames,” I answered, hoping that this outing wouldn’t end in harsh words and disagreements. “It’s one of the busiest rivers in the world.”

  “And the dirtiest,” sneered Abigail. “I’ve heard there’s a terrible pong from it in the summer.”

  “It’s better than it was forty years ago,” I said, smiling.

  Abigail just grunted in reply and we set off down the drive. I let the children run on ahead.

  It was the ninth anniversary of Daniel and Papa’s death and I had forgotten to mark the date. It seemed incredible for that to happen. Perhaps Brett was right and I was moving on. I looked up into the vastness of the blue sky and smiled. I love you my darling husband, I whispered, but please let me go. I heard his voice in the sound of the murmuring breeze in the trees, in the gurgling of the river as it tumbled and gushed under the iron footbridge. He was telling me that he had let me go. It was I that was reluctant to let go of him.

  We crossed the footbridge and reached the bank on the far side, slowly making our way along the neatly clipped grass that rolled down to the water’s edge. We came to the rope, swinging very gently in the morning breeze.

  “It’s a pity we can’t swing on it,” said Danny.

  “You’ll have to wait until the summer,” said Emily, digging him in the ribs.

  “Let’s jump on the stones,” said Danny. “I’ll be the leader.”

  “Be careful,” I called. “Those stones will be slippery.”

  Just a few feet from the riverbank, eight large boulders stuck out above the surface of the water. In the past, the children had leapt onto these in a crazy hopscotch fashion. Danny had suggested that more should be dropped into the water, reaching to the other side and then they could stone-hop right across the river. But Lord Waltham had told him that it was too deep.

  Danny jumped on the first stone and then leapt to the second. Emily followed, screaming at him to hurry up or she would catch him. Abigail stood on the bank, looking bored. Her petulant face was not something I wanted to see, so I turned away from her and watched the other two playing, overjoyed that they were the best of friends. One day they must be told that they are brother and sister, especially if Emily had designs on Danny as a future husband. But how to tell them was the problem. I stared across the water to where Claythorpe House stood majestic and proud. It really was a magnificent building, set in a spectacular part of England. I was glad to be there even if I did love a man who was unavailable to me. I turned round to see what Abigail was doing.

  What happened next was like a nightmare and when I remember the events of that morning, my hair still stands up on the back of my neck. Abigail was clinging to the rope and about to swing out over the water. Only the flash of her bright red cape caught my eye as I turned my head. And then she collided with Danny. The impact caused him to lose his balance and fall backwards, knocking Emily off the boulder she was standing on. One splash in the water was followed by a second, but not before my daughter had slipped and banged her head with a sickening thud on the boulder Danny had just fallen from. Abigail swung back and dropped from the rope. I ran to the water’s edge, my mind numb with horror as I saw two small figures swept into the middle of the river.

  I heard someone give out a piercing scream and realised it was coming from me. And then I felt the sting of icy water on my feet, arms and hands as I crashed into the bitter cold that engulfed me and made me gasp. Somehow I tried to swim. I knew that my clothes would hamper me, but it didn’t matter, my recklessness was overwhelming. I pushed through the treacherously cold water, ignoring the pain that numbed my fingers. In fact, the air caught in the layers of my coat and dress keeping me afloat, but it wouldn’t last for long. My heavy clothes would soon become sodden and I would be dragged under. I don’t know how I reached her, but suddenly I held Emily in my arms. Her face was pinched white, her eyelids closed and almost transparent. Blood trickled from her temple. I could see Danny just feet from me.

  “Danny! You must swim. Swim to the bank!”

  “I c..can’t, M…Mama,” he wailed.

  “You must try! Keep moving your arms and legs.” I managed to get across to him, holding Emily’s head above the water. As soon as I reached him, he clung onto me, almost pulling me down. “Please, Danny. You must try and get to the bank.”

  He tried, but I could see he was becoming paralysed with the cold. I looked towards the spot where I thought Abigail would be. She was nowhere to be seen. I groaned in despair. She would probably run back to the house and find a hiding place and not come out until it was all over. I shifted Emily’s dead weight into another position, trying to ease the agonising ache in my arm. I
f only she would wake up then probably she could help herself. She said she could swim. But when I looked into her face, I could see she was unconscious. Danny fastened his arms round my neck, clutching me even tighter. I felt myself choking as I tried to liberate myself from his strangling hold. I cursed that I had never allowed him to learn to swim.

  I pushed with my legs and tried to keep the three of us afloat, the bitter cold stinging every part of me like a million tiny needles. It was then that I realised that I couldn’t save both my children. I just wasn’t strong enough. I looked at my daughter, her face white, almost lifeless, her eyelashes casting long shadows on her cheeks. And then I looked at my son, his face showing the terror, the desperation to fight the cold, trying to stay afloat. If I only had the courage to let Emily go, to let her slip from my arms and allow the river to take her. She wouldn’t feel any pain, she was already insensible. She would sink into the murky depths and drown and know nothing about it. Then I would be free to help my son to safety. I let out an anguished cry. It was a harrowing decision, a dreadful thing to consider, but either I saved one child, or we all died together.

  I pressed a kiss on my little girl’s pale and silent mouth and slowly released my hold.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  It was as though my arm had a will of its own. It relaxed for only a moment and then when Emily started to slide into the water, it tensed once more and I was holding her even tighter against me. Tears trickled down my cheeks, warming my face for an instant, but then freezing on my cheeks. I could no more let my daughter die than I could my son. But we were all becoming so numb with cold and my mind wouldn’t function. I couldn’t remember which way to swim and everything seemed to be shrouded in pink mist. All I knew was that I had brought these two babies into the world and if it was God’s will, then I would leave it with them. Holding onto my children, I closed my eyes and sank below the surface.

  Strong arms came round me, lifting me up. I opened my eyes and through a watery haze, saw Brett. He took Emily from me and passed her to Lord Waltham before guiding me through the water, encouraging me to keep moving. As I concentrated on his calm instructions I noticed a footman also in the water who already had Danny in his arms. It was only a matter of minutes before all three of us were safely on the riverbank.