Love is the death of me

by Dick Hardman

  Whilst waiting for the arrival of his favourite cooked breakfast, Peter explained that his visit would be short, a week at the most. Then he would be returning to Europe to complete an engineering project. That information was for everyone except Lord Stone, who knew that Peter was a spy for Germany.

  ***

  After breakfast, the family retired to the drawing room and caught up with each other’s news. Ralph never uttered a word and fiddled obsessively with the tassels on the arm of the chair. Cathy persisted in sitting very close to Peter, appearing to be entranced with him, though her eyes were glazed and looked past him.

  Lord Stone sensed Peter’s discomfort and, responding to eye movements from Lady Stone, he dismissed Ralph and Cathy, suggesting that they went to their rooms and got on with the day.

  “Mother, how is Cathy, she appears to have let herself go.”

  “She is not making any progress Peter, in fact she is much worse in some respects. I saw your reaction to her personal hygiene, but we cannot get her to bathe. She has never allowed her maid or anyone to touch her, and I cannot bring myself to force her. The doctor warned that physical force would probably send her over the edge.”

  “Has she ever said more about what happened that night and who raped her?”

  “No, she just briefly rubs her private place and shouts repeatedly ‘Dirty! Dirty!’ and it is difficult to get her to calm down.”

  “Is there any new evidence that supports our suspicions about the man who did it?”

  “Only more hearsay. If he had been a commoner, we might have proceeded to a trial, even a conviction; but with his connections, the repercussions would be devastating.

  “We have come to accept that even we are powerless against him and our real concern is for Cathy’s welfare. There is no way she could cope with an investigation, let alone a trial if it came to that. It is a secret she will not share with us, so under the circumstances we cannot expect the police to expose the culprit.”

  “Perhaps if I had a word with her. She seems so pleased to see me, she might let something slip.”

  “If you could get her to take regular baths Peter, we would be so pleased. Friends do know she is strange and they make allowances, but they cannot cope with, well, you know. She is 35 years old, so they can think of no excuse for poor hygiene.

  “I do caution you though, about broaching the subject of what happened that night. Once she starts the chanting, it is so hard to distract her and get her to stop. Everyone finds it so distressing when she flares up.”

  “I understand Mother, I will be very careful. Do you mind if I speak to her Father?”

  “I think you should, you were always so close and that has not changed, during your absence. She did not want to leave you when I sent her to her room, you must have noticed how taken she was with you.”

  “Yes, it was just like old times. She might start talking when we are alone. I will ease the subject into her thoughts and see what happens. I certainly won’t ask her directly or apply any pressure.”

  “Good boy, I knew you would understand. All we want is for her to be happy and enjoy her life. You know she was at her best when she was working, her insight was staggering; just give her a few bits of information and she would find more, and assemble a complete answer. She was never wrong. It is a great shame they won’t have her back, but in the circumstances, you really cannot blame them. We all know that if she hadn’t been working there, this ghastly thing would never have happened.”

  “Would you excuse us my dear, Peter and I need to talk about things you would not understand?”

  “You mean war and politics, how could I possibly understand such things. I am only a woman.

  “I beg you not to take up to much of Peter’s time. I want to talk with him about mother and son things, and I can barely contain myself.”

  “Thank you mother, nor can I hardly wait to have you to myself.” Peter stood as she got up from her armchair; he gave her a parting hug and kissed her cheek.

  Lord Stone cleared his throat; the display of affection was too much for him.

  As the door closed behind Lady Stone, Lord Stone came straight to the point.

  “Am I to assume you are responsible for the Becton Gasworks attack?”

  “Yes father, the beacon worked first time and I have already sent my detailed report to Germany. They probably paced the floor endlessly waiting for the news.”

  “Well, they must be ecstatic with your achievement. If they don’t win this dreadful war now, I’m dashed if I know what more they need.”

  “Lots of money and a demoralised Britain, I shouldn’t wonder. Germany is scraping the bottom of the coffers as we speak. If they do win, they will need the wealthy families and their businesses, like ours, to recover.

  “The reduction in cost of munitions by better targeting will be felt immediately, and the saving of lives on both sides is of mutual benefit. Of course, now that Germany can select their targets, when the invasion follows, the useful infrastructure will still be intact. To obliterate London and other cities does Germany no good at all. They will have to pay dearly to rebuild again, with money they don’t have.”

  “I just hope Hitler appreciates the brilliance of your invention.”

  “I doubt it, but I don’t care as long as this family survives, probably the same words that are being spoken by the German population about themselves.”

  “What do you have planned next, Peter?”

  “I thought I was entitled to a short break, life has been hanging by a thread for some time now. Fortunately not the hangman’s thread, so to speak.

  “There is some training of new agents to do, my three people have died or vanished, so I will probably go back to Alderney and complete my stint there. If the British are smart, and they are, they will concentrate more resources on detecting the trained German agents that are coming here. That way they can prevent the beacons being placed. From what I have seen of MI5, they are good, but not up to strength with good agents. They are at least 16 down, and a few hapless policemen, which is down to the work of my team.

  “I have also found a young lady that I would like to spend my life with. At one time, I thought the only way I could do that was if she and I settled down in Brazil. Things will look different now, if Germany wins the war. I presume you have no issues with me marrying a German girl?”

  “Actually, Peter I do! There is no foreign blood flowing in this family’s veins. We are more pure than the Monarchy. We do not even have Scottish, Irish or Welsh blood. It would saddened me to see that record tarnished. You will just have to find a true English girl that you can get on with, you may not love her but tradition and this family will outlast any individual.”

  Peter had rather expected that sort of reply from his father, but he felt confident Helga would win him over. He said no more on the subject.

  “With your permission father, I will go and talk to Cathy. I am anxious to help her sort herself out.”

  “That is a splendid idea. Lady Stone will be delighted if you can improve the girl’s life and it would please me beyond measure.”

  “I will take my leave then Father.”

  ***

  Peter knocked on Cathy’s door and she opened it immediately.

  “I heard you coming up the stairs, I hear everything. I heard you smell me when you kissed my head. Mama has told you to get me clean.”

  “I actually came to see you and listen to everything you have to tell me.” Peter spoke softly and calmly, knowing how acute her hearing was. All her senses were astonishingly sensitive. Her window was closed to keep out the sound of the gentle breeze through the distant trees, which irritated her.

  “I have missed you Cathy, you must have a lot to tell me, I have been away for a long time.”

  “546 days, 9 hours and 34 minutes. That is the last time we spoke.

  “You wanted to know who did that dirty thing to me. I must not tell anyone, I must not tell you or Mama or Father. He s
aid he would take me away from you all if I did.”

  She was getting agitated. Peter felt she desperately wanted to tell, but feared losing her family if she did. She was not simple, but highly intelligent and perceptive. The threat was real, not just in her mind, and the family knew it as well. Everyone was so certain they knew the man who had raped her, but he wielded immense power and Cathy’s mental condition would give her accusation no credibility.

  “Father was told by Doctor West, our family physician that I had a condition called autism. He had been in communication with Doctor Leo Kanner from Johns Hopkins University, and he also believes Ralph has the same condition. They cannot change Ralph or me, there is no cure.”

  “Well, we all love you Cathy, just as you are, but we all wish you would wash yourself thoroughly every day, and put on fresh clothes. That is what your maid is employed for.”

  “I know that Peter, I am not stupid! The maid is rough and hurts me. Putting on clothes is like wearing sandpaper, it is so painful.”

  “Well, you can always wash yourself, can’t you?”

  “I suppose, but then I will be expected to join in with family friends. Their noise and pointless social chatter overwhelms me and if I stink, they avoid me. Ralph can sit in the room with them and he shuts down. They cannot get through to him and he can bear it that way.

  “When I was at work, I plugged my ears and hid away in a quiet room, to concentrate.”

  “You used to like working for MI5 didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I could focus on the puzzles they gave me and no one would bother me. Except him!”

  “Who do you mean when you say ‘him’?”

  “The man who did things to me, but you know that and I will not say anything more about it.”

  “Yes Cathy, I remember now, you did say at the time. You also said he attacked you in the street, the night you walked to get a taxi.”

  “Yes, I told you all that, he pulled me into his car and we drove to a small flat in the city.”

  Cathy was beginning to shake, she wanted to tell Peter everything, but with the terror of being taken from the family, it was just too much to risk.

  “What about that nice warm bath? Plenty of soapy bubbles and if you like, I will wash your hair for you, just like old times.”

  She smiled and stopped shaking. Peter ran her bath and waited outside the bathroom until she called him in. She was decent, wrapped in a huge fluffy towel. She knelt down and leaned over the bath, allowing Peter to gently wash her hair.

  They continued to talk about the things that had happened to her and the family since he went away. She was like a diary, everything carefully stored in her brain, dates, times, names and places. She never missed a thing. As she bathed, they carried on their conversation through the closed bathroom door. At last, she had a reason to look good, just for brother Peter, her only best friend.

  Peter called the maid.

  “Please lay out Lady Catherine’s fresh clothes, and make certain you provide the softest undergarments you can find. She will also require some pretty jewellery, suitable for today. I am taking her out in the Jaguar to see the river, perhaps do a bit of walking.

  “If you could provide some earplugs for her, so the outside world does not impact too strongly, it would be perfect.” He knew Cathy would still be able to hear him talking, in spite of them.

  “I know Lady Catherine will object, but please come back to help her dress and do her hair.”

  When Cathy was clothed, Peter returned to keep her talking. She was a different person now, talkative, albeit to the mirror, never at him directly.

  “Would you like me to brush out your hair Cathy? I promise I will be very gentle.”

  “I would love that Peter, thank you.” Just this once, she put up with the discomfort.

  The maid was obviously irritated, she was quite capable of brushing hair, far better than Peter. She could never understand the silly girl, or the fuss everyone made of her and the rude man Ralph. They both deserved a jolly good spanking and that would sort them out, it never did her any harm.

  Now it was the maid’s turn to work on Cathy, while Peter kept her preoccupied. An hour later, the girl was the stunning beauty that Peter knew her to be, though he had never really thought of his sister in those terms.

  It was approaching lunch time and with the fine drizzle in the air, the trip out was postponed until the afternoon.

  ***

  Cathy decided the soft mink coat with its broad collar would be very comfortable, and warm. Forbes brought a tartan wool blanket to cover her legs and feet, he proceeded to settle her in the passenger seat and deferentially closed the door. Peter opened the boot of the Jaguar and Forbes took Peter’s brown hide suitcase and the presents, back to the house.

  The engine turned over slowly in the freezing air, the thick oil was cold already. On full choke and retarded ignition, it started with a refined roar, and Peter held the engine speed for a minute at 1500rpm to warm it up quickly.

  The trip to the Thames had begun and Cathy was alive with curiosity. She asked if they could walk over Tower Bridge, when they reached it. Bridges had always fascinated her.

  They walked a long way, in spite of the cold. The earlier drizzle had stopped and the weak winter sun shone through. Cathy clung to Peter’s arm like they were lovers. She was proud to be with him and, although she was incapable of responding in a flirtatious way to the young men who smiled at her, she knew she looked very attractive and that they all envied Peter.

  “Now we are alone Cathy, no one can hear what you say to me, can’t you tell me who it was that raped you. I can keep your secret, no one will ever know, just you and me, no one else. You will feel much better sharing with me, just try it and see.”

  Peter had chosen his moment well. Cathy was bursting with joy at being out in the open on Tower Bridge, with her brother and best friend. He had never lied to her or hurt her in any way. Even as young children, he would always give in to her demands rather than squabble. Many times she tested him, wanting his toy or comforter and he let her have it, even though she knew he was upset.

  He was right, if she told him here no one would know, and she desperately needed to tell him. She whispered in his ear and the truth of the sordid affair was known, for certain. Peter knew it was the truth, she was incapable of lying. A lie was not a concept that she knew. She could say as easily as anyone that black was white, but it made no sense to do so. It was the same when it came to sparing someone’s feelings by telling a white lie, it would never occur to her to lie, or even to say nothing. It had to be said, because that is the way it was.

  Cathy did feel better now, a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders and passed on to Peter. It was now his secret and he would never tell, ever.

  ***

  It was approaching dinner time and they returned to change for the occasion. Lord and Lady Stone could see Cathy had been transformed, back to the vibrant and still sometimes inappropriate young lady they remembered her to be, until 18 months ago. If only Peter could transform Ralph as well, that would be a wonderful end to a terrible year.

  They wondered how she would cope with life again when Peter left in a week or so. She clung to him and even stared fixedly into his eyes, making him quite uncomfortable, but he did not let her see it.

  Lady Stone saw the prospect of her complete family socialising again and seized the opportunity to broach the subject.

  “Peter, we have just received a wedding invitation from Sir Matthew Barker. It will be held at his local church on the 3rd of January and we wondered whether you would come with us, and accompany Cathy.

  “The poor man recently lost his wife, and now suddenly he has found a new one. I am not surprised though, he is frightfully handsome and equally wealthy.”

  Peter was busy churning over ideas in his head and was not listening attentively to what his mother had asked. The name Sir Matthew Barker was clear enough, his team had mentioned him as the man heading securi
ty at Gant’s Hill, where they had worked. In any case, high society was alive with this type of social event, it was of no importance to him.

  “Yes of course Mama, I would be proud to accompany you and Father and my sister. Perhaps we can decide on suitable presents and Cathy and I can get them from Harrods tomorrow.”

  “Splendid Peter, now what should we get…”

  ***

  In bed that night, Peter tossed and turned trying to solve the problem that was eating away at him. For the last 18 months he had prayed for this opportunity and now he had to commit the perfect crime. It would have to be better than perfect, because suspicion would immediately fall on him and the family, of that he had no doubt.

  Finally, at dawn the answer came to him. It was so simple, so perfect that even if he stood up and proclaimed he had done it, he would not be believed.

  Peter has a shock. 28th December 1943

  Feeling somewhat sleepy following his restless night, Peter struggled to be involved in his mother’s chatter about the wedding. Society weddings were just for the women and the bride. He thought the men were just necessary props to complete the occasion. Lady Stone passed the invitation to Cathy who saw no need to touch it, though she did read it.

  “Perhaps you would like to read the invitation Peter.” His mother handed it to him with a broad smile, hinting that he should be planning his own marriage.

  Apparently Lord Stone had mentioned Peter’s desire to take up with this German girl, Helga. Lady Stone had no reservations about the girl’s race, as long as she came from a top drawer family which was what mattered. She knew Peter had dabbled where it was available, but he would never bring home someone unsuitable.

  “Thank you mother. Have you decided what presents we should get?”

  “I have done the rounds on the telephone with my friends this morning, and I have a list. Here you are.”

  Lady Stone passed it to Peter for his approval.

  “I think we can find this in Harrods, but I have no coupons to spare.”

  “Don’t worry about that darling, I have had a word with them and they are expecting you this morning. Cathy knows the man to speak to and he will work his magic. Gosh, where would we all be if we had to worry about coupons? Dreadful things.”