by Erica James
For no more than a second he’d considered drowning Annelise just to ensure that this was a lesson for which Allegra would pay for the rest of her life, but even he baulked at actually murdering a small child. This way he got to play the part of hero of the hour while Allegra was cast as the villain, a woman who was too lazy and self-absorbed to stay awake and look after her charge.
Earlier, when the dull-as-ditch-water service had ended at St Mary’s, Arthur had left Kit simpering over Evelyn Flowerday and headed for home. He’d fancied a bottle of cold beer down by the boathouse, but when he’d come across the tableau of Allegra and Annelise both fast asleep, a cunning ruse had popped into his head.
A devilishly clever ruse!
With nobody about, he’d stealthily picked up the child and hurried away like a thief in the night, back the way he’d just come.
He’d taken her down to Clover Woods, where she continued to sleep, oblivious to the awaiting storm. When she’d woken and he’d decided sufficient time had elapsed to cause maximum alarm, he’d strolled back ready to tell everyone he’d found the child crawling along the path in a distressed state. To add credence to his story, he’d rolled her in the leaves and messed up her clothes. Which she didn’t seem to mind at all.
‘I’m just glad I was there when I was,’ he now said, when yet again Hope thanked him for him for what he’d done. ‘Otherwise,’ he added with a meaningful shrug, ‘God only knows what might have happened.’ His words, he saw, were like a dagger to Allegra, and as she chewed her lip and visibly trembled, he relished the effect.
They were on the terrace, drinking tea – the British answer to all life’s calamities – with Romily, Hope and Allegra having changed out of their wet clothes. Hope had the child on her lap and was holding her close, as though she would never let her go.
Arthur gave the child a crafty sideways glance. Our little secret, he said silently to her. Something to keep just between the two of us.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The next day, Dr Garland was back at Island House again.
Romily was worried about Allegra. The girl didn’t seem at all well. She hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast yesterday morning, and had locked herself in her bedroom, no doubt too embarrassed to show her face. Whenever Romily had knocked on the door in an effort to coax her out, her pleadings went unheeded. But then this morning she had heard the unmistakable sound of Allegra being repeatedly unwell in the bathroom and had confronted her before she could make it back to her room.
One look at her feverish high colour and her hands clutching her stomach and Romily’s mind had been made up: the girl was plainly ill and needed medical attention. Perhaps she had swallowed water in the pond yesterday and caught something horrid that was upsetting her stomach? She had helped Allegra back into bed, telling her she was sending for Dr Garland. She had half expected her to remonstrate, but it was as if the spark that fired her determined and contrary will had left her. She was a pitiful sight, and despite her appalling carelessness with Annelise yesterday, Romily’s heart softened at the visible pain of her suffering now.
Having shown Dr Garland upstairs, Romily went outside to the garden. Nobody else was about – Kit and Hope had gone for a walk with Annelise, and heaven only knew where Arthur was.
It was understandable that Hope could not now bring herself to entrust Annelise into anybody else’s care but her own, and consequently she had informed her publisher first thing this morning that she needed more time to produce the promised illustrations. Privately Romily believed her vigilance would soon waver, once they had all recovered from the shock of what might have happened.
If Arthur had been unbearably unpleasant before, now, having adopted the mantle of heroic child rescuer, he was even harder to tolerate. He was insufferably smug about his role in yesterday’s drama and clearly relished every opportunity to condemn Allegra for her negligence. Admittedly Allegra had made a terrible mistake, and one that could have ended in tragedy, but Romily never believed in rubbing salt into a wound. She suspected the girl would be haunted for a very long time by her carelessness. That was punishment enough for anyone in Romily’s opinion.
Walking the length of the avenue of herbaceous borders and admiring the hummocks of lavender, the hollyhocks and delphiniums and the sweet-smelling roses, she spotted Elijah working at the far end of the right-hand border. She hadn’t had a chance to speak to him since before the funeral, and so she decided to have a word about an idea she’d had for the area of garden outside Jack’s study.
Jack had always had a lot of time for Elijah and used to enjoy discussing his latest plans for the garden with him. ‘You wouldn’t believe what a weedy little fellow he was when he was a boy,’ he had once told Romily. He’d also told her that as children, Allegra and Elijah had been firm friends. ‘Of course she had no idea that I knew she was sneaking off to play with him in Clover Woods,’ he had explained. ‘One word of approval from me and she would have cut the friendship off in a heartbeat just to spite me.’
Florence had told Romily that she had spotted Allegra and Elijah dancing together on Saturday evening. Had they then spent the night together at Elijah’s cottage?
Elijah touched his cap when Romily drew near. ‘Afternoon, Mrs Devereux-Temple,’ he said in his soft, temperate voice, the tone of which always surprised Romily, given that he was such a tall, powerfully built man. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t at Mr Devereux’s funeral,’ he said. ‘I wanted to pay my respects to a man who had always been very good to me and my grandfather, but Lady Fogg insisted she needed me for the day.’
How mean-spirited of the ghastly woman, thought Romily. ‘That’s all right, Elijah,’ she said. ‘These things happen. If you have a minute,’ she went on, ‘I’d value your opinion about an idea I’ve had for the garden; a sort of memorial to Jack.’
‘I’d be happy to hear what you have in mind,’ he said, ‘only the thing is, I might not …’ He broke off and gripped the hoe tightly in his large hands.
‘What is it, Elijah?’ Romily asked him, concerned. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I was going to tell you later today, when I’d finished work, but the thing is, I might not be here for much longer. You see, some lads and me from the village are planning to enrol. We reckon it will only be a matter of weeks, if not days, before we’re called up to fight anyway.’
Romily regarded him with renewed respect, but also with sadness. She thought of the young men in Melstead St Mary and the surrounding villages, all of whom would be thinking the same way as Elijah and volunteering, oblivious perhaps to what they were letting themselves in for, just as their grandfathers, fathers and uncles had done in the Great War. ‘I believe you’re right,’ she said ruefully, ‘but I hope with all my heart it won’t come to that.’
‘We can’t just stand idly by while Hitler does what he wants,’ Elijah said gravely. ‘He has to be stopped, or where will it all end?’
‘I agree, and I applaud you and your friends for your courage.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Devereux-Temple,’ he said with a small nod of his head. ‘Now what was it you wanted me to do for you in the garden? Maybe I’ll have time before I leave.’
She raised a hand. ‘It’s fine; don’t give it another thought. You have bigger things to think about.’
‘But if it’s important to you, I’d like to help if I can. I’d like to do it for Mr Devereux too, seeing as I couldn’t make it to his funeral. If that’s not speaking out of turn.’
‘Not at all, Elijah; I’m grateful for your thoughtfulness.’
‘In that case, do you want to show me what you had in mind, and where?’
They were walking the length of the garden, back towards the house, when Romily saw Dr Garland appear through the open French doors of the drawing room.
‘I’ll be right back,’ she said to Elijah. ‘I must just speak to the doctor about Allegra.’
‘That’s all right,’ Romily said, her earlier suspicions further roused. ‘Jack told me that you and Allegra were good friends when you were children, so your interest is perfectly understandable. I called for the doctor because I was worried about her. She doesn’t seem at all well in my opinion.’
He raised his gaze. ‘If it’s not too much bother, maybe you could say I was asking after her.’
‘Of course.’
‘And … and will you tell her I’m sorry for what I said. She’ll know what I mean.’
Romily smiled. ‘I will. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see what Dr Garland has to say.’
‘Dr Garland says you have something to tell me,’ said Romily when she came in with a tray of tea things.
‘He didn’t tell you himself?’ replied Allegra, surprised. Waiting for Romily to come upstairs to see her, she had been convinced Dr Garland would have rushed to break the shameful news of her pregnancy to the entire household, the whole of the village too.
‘He’s much too discreet for that,’ Romily said, pouring out two cups of tea. ‘Milk? Or lemon?’
‘Neither. One sugar, though.’
She watched Romily drop a cube of sugar into the cup and then stir it before bringing it over with a biscuit placed on the saucer. After she’d fetched her own cup and sat in the chair next to the bed, where Dr Garland had earlier seated himself when he’d finished examining her, Romily said, ‘I was talking to Elijah in the garden and he wanted you to know that he was asking after you.’
Allegra tried not to look too startled. ‘Why would he do that?’
‘Presumably because he’s an old friend of yours and he cares about you. He also said to tell you he’s sorry for what he said.’
‘I don’t know what he’s talking about.’
Romily looked at her over the rim of her cup. ‘Don’t you? Really? He seemed very sure that you would.’
Ignoring Romily’s remarks, Allegra said, ‘What else did he say? And how did he know I wasn’t feeling well?’
‘I mentioned that Dr Garland was here to see you. There was no getting away from his reaction, which was one of alarm. Drink your tea, Allegra, before it gets cold, and perhaps try that ginger biscuit; you haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday morning.’
Allegra took a small sip of the tea and then a cautious nibble of the biscuit. Dr Garland had left a prescription for some medicine that he claimed would stop her feeling so nauseous. She hoped he was right.
‘I’m sorry I’ve put you to so much trouble,’ she said, when she’d swallowed a minuscule bite of the biscuit. ‘Especially after what happened yesterday.’
‘Don’t torture yourself by thinking about that; it won’t help you. Best thing we can all do is to learn from it and be on our guard to prevent a similar thing happening again.’
‘Why are you being so nice to me?’
‘Would you rather I was as unpleasant to you as Arthur is?’
‘I’d trust it more. The one thing I always know with my cousin is where I stand. But with you, I … I don’t know.’
‘That’s hardly surprising. Until a few days ago, we hadn’t met. It takes time to get to know a person, and longer still to trust them.’
‘I’ve trusted very few people in my life,’ murmured Allegra. ‘Those I have have usually let me down.’ She was thinking of Luigi in particular.
‘I guessed as much,’ said Romily. ‘But I’d hazard a guess that you trusted Elijah when you were a child. Yes?’
Allegra risked another sip of the hot sweet tea before saying, ‘You’re fishing, aren’t you?’
Romily smiled. ‘He’s an extraordinarily handsome young man. Quite the dish.’
In spite of feeling so awful, Allegra smiled as well. ‘I didn’t recognise him when I first saw him working in the garden the other day. He’s changed so much since I last saw him. But you’re right: he and I were good friends back when we were children.’
‘Did you spend the night with him on Saturday?’
Allegra nearly dropped her teacup. ‘Why on earth would you ask me that?’
‘Because I saw you returning home early yesterday morning, and you were still wearing the dress you’d worn for the dance the night before.’
Allegra blinked. ‘It’s not what you think.’
‘But you don’t know what I’m thinking. And really it’s nothing to do with me what you get up to with an old friend.’
‘We just talked. We talked and talked and then the next thing I knew it was morning and I was still in the armchair where I’d been all night. And that’s the truth. Though to be honest, I don’t give a damn whether you believe me or not.’
Romily looked at her steadily. ‘Actually I do believe you. The same thing happened to me with Jack when we met for the second time. We’d been out for dinner, and afterwards he invited me back to his place for a nightcap and we talked all night until we heard the birds singing. One thing you need to know about me, Allegra, I care not a jot for convention. Your uncle and I lived perfectly happily in a state of what certain folk here in the village considered to be sin, and we neither of us batted an eyelid. So you see, you can’t say or do anything that will shock me, and I’m certainly not going to sit in judgement on you. Not ever.’
Allegra decided to put that statement to the test. ‘What if I told you I was pregnant?’
Without missing a beat, Romily said, ‘I’d say that explains the sickness, and the tiredness. When is the baby due?’
‘In about seven months. Dr Garland advised me to tell you – he seems to think that it was too big a burden for me to carry alone. I didn’t tell him I’d already told Elijah. That was one of the things we were talking about into the early hours of Sunday morning.’
‘So that’s why Elijah reacted the way he did when I told him the doctor was here to see you. His concern for you was genuine, you know.’
Allegra nodded, touched that despite the way they’d parted yesterday morning, Elijah cared enough to ask after her. ‘According to Dr Garland,’ she said, ‘I’m suffering from mental and physical exhaustion, brought on by the shock of what happened yesterday with Annelise.’
‘That would make sense. What does he advise?’
‘Complete bed rest for the next few days, for the sake of the baby.’ She sighed heavily. ‘Which will ensure I die of boredom.’
‘Then we shall have to do our best to amuse and entertain you. Take another bite of that biscuit if you can bear it, Allegra. Now then, what about the father of the baby? Presumably he’s in Italy. Does he know? Can he be relied upon?’
Allegra snorted. ‘If by that you mean can he be relied upon to lie, cheat and swindle, then yes.’ She gave Romily an abridged version of the events that had brought her to this low point, and as she spoke, she felt a growing sense of trust and esteem towards this woman she had known for such a short time, a woman who seemed to possess a singularly clear-sighted and uncomplicated way of looking at life. She was beginning now to see why Roddy had said that he had the greatest respect and admiration for her. There was no superiority or judgement to her. Just a willingness to help. What was more, not a word of blame or criticism had she levelled at Allegra for falling asleep while minding Annelise yesterday.
The sickening guilt Allegra felt for her irresponsible behaviour had kept her awake for most of the night. Every time she had almost nodded off, the haunting image of a dead child floating in the pond came to her, and she had to bury her face in the pillow to block it out.
How could she ever consider herself responsible enough to be a fit mother after that? Would anyone in their right mind think
she was capable of looking after a child?
Chapter Thirty
Back from their walk, and at Kit’s suggestion, they wandered through the garden to the old outhouse they used to play in as children. He’d had a sudden whim to remind himself of where he and Hope had often retreated when they wanted to steer clear of Arthur.
While Hope lifted Annelise out of the pram, Kit peered in through one of the grimy windows, but it was too dark inside to see clearly. Next he tried the handle of the door, half expecting it to be locked. It wasn’t, and it opened stiffly with an arthritic creak. He stepped inside into the airless gloom, his nostrils instantly assailed with the dust of years gone by.
‘Doesn’t look like anyone’s been in here in a very long time,’ he said over his shoulder to Hope, his eyes adjusting to the opaque interior.
‘Is it safe, do you think?’ she asked, from the doorway.
‘I’d keep hold of Annelise,’ he replied. ‘Don’t put her down or she’ll end up as black as coal.’
Together they moved further into the outhouse. ‘Oh look,’ exclaimed Hope, ‘there’s the old croquet set we used to play with.’
‘Better still, look over there, there’s Giddy-Up Jack, our old rocking horse. Do you remember how we’d both get on it and that foul old nanny would shout at us for making too much noise?’
Hope shuddered. ‘What a witch Nanny Finch was. Heaven only knows what on earth Father thought he was doing when he employed her.’
‘I suppose he didn’t have much say in it; he would simply have asked the agency to supply yet another nanny. After all, we did get through them at an alarming rate.’
Kit pushed aside a shabby wrought-iron table and a couple of chairs and ran a hand over the dusty back of the rocking horse. ‘What say you we clean him up for Annelise to play on?
‘I’d say that might be a tall order, given the state he’s in. He might even be riddled with woodworm.’