by Gloria Cook
Emilia explained why the archery gear had been taken down early, indignant anger making her shake.
Alec held her firmly. ‘How strange. I wonder why.’
‘That’s what I intend to discover and what I already would have done if this event was not partly a solemn occasion.’ Selina crossly lit another cigarette. ‘Come for a walk with me, Em?’
‘Sorry.’ Alec put a note of curtness in his tone. ‘I haven’t seen my wife all day.’ Then tender and kind, ‘Let me take you to the marquee, darling. I’m hungry and thirsty and you look like you need some attentive care.’
Emilia went with him, glad to get away from Selina’s clinging company, trying to convey love and encouragement to Perry in one short look.
‘So that’s Ben’s famous dancing platform, is it? He’s made a good effort, even had the timber varnished. I suppose he and Brooke will start off the dancing,’ Alec said, a gentle grip on Emilia’s hand that was tucked through the crook of his arm. He could not help feeling rankled to see Ben, with Brooke, beside his creation, receiving acclaim like some benevolent lord. Then it amused him to see Ben and his bride were exchanging vexed words.
Glancing back over her shoulder, Emilia saw Perry heading towards the trap, pushed over the uneven ground by her father, with a mournful Libby trotting at the side of the wheeled chair, clutching Perry’s hand. Selina had stayed put, staring ahead, jerking a cigarette up to her lips. ‘What? I suppose they will. Mrs Dowling asked me if you and I would like to do the honours, after you’d given a short speech about this being a memorial day for Jenna this year. I said no to the dancing, but I thought you could say a few words, Alec. That was all right, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes… yes, I’ll think of something appropriate.’ Alec took Emilia to Ben and Brooke. ‘Not interrupting your first quarrel, I hope.’
‘Not at all,’ Brooke replied, while Ben’s darkened eyes settled uneasily on Emilia. ‘I’ve been urging Ben to tell you both something you really ought to know.’
‘I’m sorry, Emilia,’ Ben said, ‘I thought it could wait until the evening was over, but now you’re here I believe Brooke is right.’
‘This has got to be about Selina Bosweld.’ Emilia raised her head, bracing herself, willing it not to be anything too terrible for Perry’s sake. ‘Well, what is it?’
Emilia listened, furious over the hurt Perry was already suffering, the humiliation he had to bear, the distress for Libby at the scandal Selina had caused. ‘The despicable creature! I’d better get my mother and Winnie away from her.’
‘Where’s Tris?’ Alec scanned the crowds. ‘He doesn’t seem to be anywhere.’
‘I’ve no idea,’ Emilia said. ‘I’d assumed he’d gone to fetch something for Winnie.’
* * *
Tristan was on the school premises, creeping close along the side of the hedge, having scrambled over it silently and unseen. He was soon climbing again, under cover of the trees and foxgloves and tall greenery, and there was his quarry, his son, flat on his front, his long legs dangling against grasses, dock leaves and cow parsley. He was directly in line behind Selina Bosweld and aiming a slingshot at her.
With military skill Tristan leaned forward, swiped the slingshot out of Jonny’s hand and smothered his mouth, cutting off an exclamation of surprise and sudden fright. ‘Don’t speak, son. Slip down on to your feet. You and I need a little talk.’
Red-faced, nervous sweat sparkling all over his dark skin, Jonny plodded tensely at his father’s side, a heavy paternal hand on his shoulder, until they reached a corner of the girls’ playground, where there was no chance of them being overheard.
‘She deserved what she was going to get, Dad.’ Jonny shivered despite the fever he was in, his head hung over.
Tristan lifted Jonny’s chin and was alarmed to see the panic in his generally fearless son. ‘Why so, Jonny? Surely you’ve not got anything to do with what I’ve just been hearing about her, why she was dismissed from the infirmary?’
‘I know nothing about that.’
‘What then? You’re scared half out of your wits. If you were so worried about getting into trouble over what you planned to do, why go ahead with it?’
‘Revenge. I hate her!’
‘Jonny, what over?’ Tristan was disturbed by the vehemence, the contortion in his young face. ‘Did she do something to you? Don’t be afraid to speak up. You can tell me anything. I’m your father.’
‘I saw her with Jim, doing things.’ Jonny mumbled, embarrassed now. ‘You know, grown-up things. I mentioned it to her. I thought she was nice, you see, and I wanted to warn her before she got found out and people turned against her. But she got angry.’ Jonny’s lower lip wobbled at the fearful memory. ‘She said if I told anyone she would… would cut off my privates with a surgeon’s knife. She meant it, Dad. She really did. She looked like an ogress when she said it.’
‘Right!’ Tristan grew grim. He took some time to hug his son, allowing Jonny’s tears to fall. ‘Jonny, I want you to know that I’d never let anyone hurt you. I’m going to sort this out. I’ll have a word with Miss Selina Bosweld.’
‘But Dad—’
‘Don’t worry, Jonny. No one on God’s earth is going to threaten my son!’
Tristan reached Selina Bosweld at the same time as Emilia, Alec, Ben and Brooke arrived to extricate Dolly and Winifred from her company. Jonny trailed a little behind, eyes confidently on his father’s upright back. His father had gone far up in his estimation now. ‘I want a word with you, woman. Now! Alone.’
Selina gazed at him, unblinking, as if bored and annoyed. She took in the boy, keeping behind his father. ‘I’m going nowhere. If it’s about what I said to your Jonny a little while ago, I didn’t mean it, of course.’
‘He believes you did. You frightened him very badly, and it’s a contemptible thing to say to a child anyway, let alone issuing it as a threat. You’d best leave here immediately. The whole village knows you for what you really are. Mrs Dowling is baying for your blood. The unfortunate innocent wife was her cousin and Mrs Dowling’s furious that there’s now a public scandal.’ It was a rarity to see Selina blush, to gulp in unease. ‘As I thought, you didn’t know about that.’
Selina looked pleadingly at Emilia. ‘Let me explain.’
Emilia wanted to say, ‘Don’t seek comfort from me, Selina Bosweld. You ruin people’s lives,’ but to spare further pain to Perry and Libby, she said stiffly, ‘It would be better if you go, Selina.’
Springing to her feet, Selina made to hurtle away.
Daphne Dowling was in her path. The rector’s wife swung back her prim white-gloved hand and slapped her hard across the face. ‘Harlot! You’ll burn in hell for what you’ve done and none will deserve it more.’
Selina held her seared cheek then she pushed past her accusers and ran. A volley of jeers followed after her. Near the piglet pen, she yelped, fell with a resounding thud, sprawled forward, then was reaching down to a sprained ankle. Jim was there, but not wanting the village to know he had been this woman’s lover too, he stepped away as if in quiet distaste. There were a lot of people about. No one offered to help Selina up.
Emilia started towards her. Perry had witnessed the fall and was leaning forward, beckoning to Selina. For his sake, she couldn’t stand by and watch Selina flounder.
Alec grabbed her elbow. ‘Leave her. We’ll collect the children together and enjoy the rest of the day.’
‘But Perry and Libby—’
‘He probably knew what she was up to. He should have stopped it.’ Alec was stern, uncompromising. ‘I’m not allowing you to go to that family, Emilia. This is our community and they don’t belong in it. Tomorrow I’ll give them notice to leave my house.’
Her heart rent over Perry’s feelings and the sound of Libby’s gasping sobs, Emilia had no choice in allowing Alec to turn her away from the spectacle of Selina hobbling in humiliation towards them. ‘You can’t turn the family out of their home, Alec,’ she argued. ‘I won’
t let you. Perry and Libby aren’t responsible for what Selina’s done. You know how headstrong, how independent she is. It would be like trying to turn back the tide.’
‘Why do you like the family so much?’ Alec was curious and demanding, piqued. He wanted his way over this. ‘You spend a lot of time with them. You didn’t like Selina Bosweld at all at first.’
‘You’re forgetting how good even Selina was to me over Jenna. She will be leaving here soon anyway. She wants to be a doctor. I don’t see why Perry and Libby deserved to be punished over her failings.’
Alec was thoughtful. ‘It would mean a lot to you if I went easy on them then?’
‘Yes,’ she clasped his hand. ‘Please, Alec. At least don’t do anything in haste.’
During the confusion, Sara and Wally Eathorne had arrived, arms linked, unmistakeably a couple. Wally was talking enthusiastically to his parents and Jim. The frail, wasted Mrs Eathorne, who was about to be taken home to rest, beckoned to Sara to bend her head and Sara received a welcoming kiss. Eustace Eathorne was shaking his son’s hand, slapping him on the back. Jim was hugging Sara. Sara had got herself engaged! Alec wasn’t pleased about this. She might have just made a terrible mistake. It would be his fault. He had encouraged her and pushed her away. He would be responsible for any future unhappiness that came her way. This would solve his problem over Sara’s accommodation and it was better still that she would be leaving the farm altogether, but his irresponsibility, his selfishness made his insides squirm, for even now he didn’t like the thought of her going away, of leaving him. Who am I, he was thinking, to pass judgement on others?
‘Alec?’ Maddened, Emilia shook his arm to regain his attention. This was not the time for him to retreat into meditation.
He gave her a conciliatory smile. ‘You’re right, darling. It isn’t Perry and Libby’s fault. I won’t ask the Boswelds to leave but I hope Selina moves out very soon. Perry’s been a good tenant. He’s a good man. You may do all you can to make him and Libby feel wanted.’
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Libby Bosweld lifted her chin to the window in the back of the taxicab and gazed out at Ford Farm. The only signs of life were Bertie and Hope sniffing about the hedge, and a fat straying hen. ‘No one’s come out to wave goodbye to Mirelle and me, Daddy. I hate the Harveys. I hate Hennaford. I never want to come back here again!’
Perry reached out to her but she clamped her arms round Casper’s neck; the dog was fretting on the seat between them. ‘You must never hate, darling. Don’t be cross with the Harveys, they’re still good friends of ours, remember? They probably thought the cab would be driving through the village.’
‘Tell me again about our new house,’ Libby said, still looking fierce, anxious, rejected.
Perry stroked her tawny curls and rattled off the details of the terraced house Selina was renting in a quiet suburb of south London. ‘She’s going to meet you and Mirelle off the train and I shall follow on in a couple of days.’
‘But I want you to come with us now!’
‘I know darling, but we’ll soon be all together again. I’ve to finish packing up the house and there are people I need to say goodbye to.’ One in particular, and after waving his daughter off at Truro railway station he was to spend the rest of the day with her.
Libby, a little pacified, a little brighter when Hennaford was completely left behind, began playing with Casper’s ears. ‘I still never want to go back there.’
I do, Perry said to himself, holding the perfect image of Emilia in his mind. One day I shall come back. That I swear.
* * *
She wanted to run to him. She made herself walk instead, at a normal pace, a dark figure, hidden in the shade of a sun hat and parasol. She had got out of the taxicab shortly after it had branched off from Highertown into Penweathers Lane. Reggie Rule’s secluded, stone-fronted little house was now in sight and Perry should be inside waiting for her.
She rolled up the parasol and put her hand out to the door the same instant he opened it. She stepped inside quickly, through the porch into the hall, taking no notice of the simple decor, the basic surroundings, while Perry locked and drew the bolt on the door. All she saw was Perry. All she knew was Perry. All she felt was for Perry.
‘I was so afraid something would happen to prevent you from coming, darling.’ He carefully lifted off her hat and peeled off her gloves. ‘I watched you approaching from the window. You looked so small and uncertain. You don’t regret it, do you, Em? Having to steal the time to come here to see me? Having to be circumspect?’
She went to him, gathered his body into hers, settling into him as he brought his arms around her. ‘All I care about is just being with you, Perry, darling.’
‘Let’s forget about everything but us, darling Em, and not think about the dreadful words that we must say until the very last minute.’
She nodded. Smiled, sending all her love to him in that one smile. A smile he would hold in his heart for ever. She reached for his mouth, wanting to kiss him all day, to turn these few hours, this last encounter into a lifetime of loving. To make enough memories that she could store and cherish for a lifetime. His lips felt blissfully familiar yet new and fresh to her. The way he kissed filled her with fierce, raw, rapturous sensations that were almost painful to bear.
Just one touch from her was enough to rend from him a sacred sigh of love. His whole being was flooded with life. He had never really been alive until the moment he had first met her, and after today he would return to a state of semi-being, half-alive, a soul without its mate. It was how he would be until he felt it was time to return. Secretly he would come back, and see if there was a chance he could have her for himself. Selfish it might be, but he had to allow himself this vestige of hope if he was to endure the lonely years ahead.
The progress of their love moved them, with her aid on the stairs, up to the bedroom at the back of the building, overlooking the spacious garden. The room was light and pretty, the bed covered with bright cushions of Eastern silk and design. Roses of red, white, purple and gold were in a glass vase on a little round table. ‘I’ve no idea what colour rose is supposed to be the most romantic, so I got you some of every colour I could find,’ Perry said, holding her, kissing her. ‘Think of me every time you see or breathe the scent of a rose, darling.’
‘I will. I’ll keep roses in the house all summer long.’
‘I will too. I brought some food and wine. We have everything we need here.’
‘We do.’
He looked and looked at her, smiling a little sadly, loving her. Seeing her love smiling back at him. He put his hands on her, began unfastening her clothes. ‘I want more than anything to lie down with you, Em. I want to hold you until I feel you’ll always be with me. I want to look at you until your face is always before me. I want to know you and see all of you.’ Then he stopped, a little uncertain. ‘You won’t be put off by my disablement?’
She caressed his gorgeous face. ‘Darling Perry, I love you exactly as you are and I will never, ever, stop loving you.’
And so they grew familiar in every infinitesimal way, knowing the finest, the beautiful and the superb. She looked into his eyes until she felt her own eyes were the same precious-gem blue of his. She kissed his mouth until she felt the exquisite touch of his would be on hers for ever. She touched his handsome face until her fingertips were left with the everlasting impression of his beauty and nobility. Sometimes there were tears in their eyes and the other would kiss them away.
They held on lovingly, expressing their love in utter tenderness, in wild passion, in gentle touches and silken caresses. Again and again they loved as close as a man and a woman could get. Sometimes a near desperation lent an edge to their pleasure, he taking her with him and she taking him with her. They flew, they soared, and they knew glories. They knew love. They knew things even beyond love. Experiences so profound, so extraordinary, it left them sweetly disturbed, clinging in heart, in body, in soul. They kne
w a sweet, dark peace, a golden peace. And stayed in it. Making time last, until it would no longer be swayed by their desperate spirits or the completeness of their love. Until time no longer allowed them to stretch out its moments.
* * *
Her steps echoed bare, lost and heavy as she wandered through the empty house. Everything Perry, Selina, Libby and the tiny French housemaid had brought to Ford House with them was gone. But a sense of each personality lingered still, in a fleeting shadow, a snatch of whisper, a brooding hush, a resonance of laughter. Or even the scratch of a puppy’s paws.
In the kitchen she could almost smell Mirelle’s alarmingly strong coffee and taste her mouth-watering Continental bread, almost hear the tireless blackbird of a woman jabbering as she scolded Casper, or sang in a strange evocative pitch in her own language; times when she’d paused to dry away a tear. Once Mirelle had stared at her, shaking her peasant-scarfed old head, lifting her scrawny shoulders high while making a doomed-to-failure gesture, conveying, so Emilia had believed, that she knew about the impossible future of the love that had begun in this house. Then she had turned away, apologetic and crying. Crying for Perry, Emilia had silently acknowledged.
Please don’t be too lonely, Perry. Find someone else. You have so much love to give and you deserve to be loved every day of your life.
Slowly, for her legs would go no faster, she mounted the stairs. Little Libby’s bedroom, so abandoned, so forlorn, the saddest room of all. Jonny and Vera Rose had spent the last day of their stay here with her, returning to report that she was both excited and afraid of the move to London, but glad to be getting away from those who had been so beastly towards her adored Aunt Selina, her daddy and herself.
It took courage to venture where Selina had slept. Where, Emilia imagined, she had gloried in her seductions and affairs and where she had planned the next, her greatest coup.