by Jess Foley
‘I had to see you,’ he said.
She shook her head, frowning. ‘This is lunacy.’
They remained standing there on the path.
‘I had to see you,’ Joel said again. ‘I’ve got to talk to you.’
She said, ‘How did you know where I’d be,’ then gave a nod as memory came. ‘Of course – I told you I came here every fortnight.’
‘Can I talk to you?’ he said. ‘Please, I’ve got to talk to you.’
The heavy raindrops drummed on the umbrella’s black canopy, struck the old flagstones on which they stood, and bounced off. The umbrella was not protection enough; the shoulders of Joel’s brown jacket were being darkened by the rain.
‘We can’t stand out here,’ she said. A warning voice in her mind told her she should send him away, while another part of her mind embraced his presence and lifted at the sight of him standing so close. There came a loud crack of thunder, so loud and seeming so close that she flinched. The key to the door was in her hand. Joel, standing before her, was getting wetter by the second.
‘We can’t stay out here,’ she said again. Turning from him, she put the key in the lock. ‘Let’s go inside for a minute.’
Seconds later she was closing her umbrella and stepping through into the tiny hall, with Joel coming up behind her over the threshold. She stood in the hall while he closed the door on the rain, and in a moment all was silent.
‘We’ll go into the kitchen,’ she said, and led the way the few yards along to the kitchen door and passed through. ‘Wait here.’
Stepping on through into the tiny scullery, she stood her dripping umbrella in the old stone sink. When she went back into the kitchen a moment later she found Joel standing beside the table with his hat in his hand.
‘D’you mind if I take off my jacket?’ he said. ‘I’m a bit wet on the shoulders.’
‘Of course not.’ She put her bag on the table. ‘Do you need a towel?’
‘No, I’ll be all right.’ He took off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair, then ran fingers through his hair. They stood facing one another.
He gazed at her. ‘You look as if you’re poised for flight,’ he said. ‘Like a bird.’
She said nothing.
‘Can we sit down?’
‘Of course.’ She avoided his gaze as he pulled out a chair from the table and sat down.
‘Are you going to take off your hat?’ he said.
‘I’m only waiting for the rain to stop, then I must leave again.’
He gestured to the second chair at the table. ‘Lily, sit down – please.’
‘I – I must check on the house,’ she said. ‘That’s what I came here for – to make sure everything’s all right. You get these vagabonds roaming about – these wandering navvies. Some of them would think nothing of coming in and making free with the place.’
‘Lily, please . . .’
‘No – I must.’
She left him then, sitting at the table, and went into the hall, and from there opened the door into the little front parlour and went inside. All was much as she expected to find it, except that the rug had been rolled back from the hearth, and dust sheets placed around the fireplace. Mr Shad must have been here to sweep the chimney, she realised. Everything else was as it should be.
She left the room and went up to look in the two bedrooms. They looked rather cold and uninviting with the mattresses and pillows bare on the beds, but all was in order. In the front bedroom, the larger of the two, she drew out the drawers of a chest and found them empty apart from neat layers of old newspapers. In a cupboard beside the old bed she found a number of items that Mrs Callinthrop had left behind, forgotten or discarded: a few old sheets and blankets, clean but rather worn; a pair of old shoes, some stockings and an old petticoat. She closed the cupboard door on them. Outside the window the rain dripped from the laburnum tree. The deserted street beyond looked sodden under the dark grey sky. Joel would be waiting still in the kitchen. After a moment she went out of the room and down the narrow stairs.
He was sitting just as she had left him, and he looked around at her as she entered. ‘Is everything all right?’ he asked.
‘Yes, everything’s fine.’
‘Is the place to be let again soon?’
‘I don’t know.’ She came to a stop at the table. ‘Miss Balfour doesn’t have any immediate plans for it. She’s going to take the opportunity to get a few repairs done – that sort of thing.’
He looked up at her as she stood there. ‘Sit down, Lily,’ he said softly.
After a moment’s hesitation she pulled out the chair and sat. ‘As soon as the rain stops we must go,’ she said.
‘I know. I know. I have to go too. There’s someone I have to meet.’ He took his watch from his pocket, opened it and looked at it. ‘I mustn’t be late.’ He raised himself slightly from the seat and moved his chair closer to her own. Now they were sitting so near. ‘I wish you’d take off your hat,’ he said.
She looked at him in silence for a second, then put up her hands and pulled out the pins that were holding her hat in place. She lifted it off, stuck the pins back into it and laid it on the table. Taking off her gloves she put them inside the crown. As she touched at her hair, Joel smiled, pleased with the transformation.
‘Ah, yes, that’s better.’
She did not know what to say, and looked down at her hands. She was so conscious of his nearness, and aware too of the beating of her heart. ‘You shouldn’t have come here, Joel,’ she said after a while. ‘Why did you come?’
‘I had to. I told you, I had to. I knew you’d be back here today; you told me you would. And I knew where you’d be – one of the houses had a laburnum tree, you said. So I just came along and waited. It wasn’t an impulsive move – I’ve known for days that I had to do it.’
‘You could have written to me.’
‘If I had, you might have avoided me.’
She raised her head and looked at him now. ‘Why did you come?’
He hesitated only a second before replying, then said simply, ‘I love you, Lily.’
For a moment her breath caught in her throat. His words were like water to a thirsting man, like bread to one starving. She could live on them; she could drink them, eat them, she could breathe them like the very air. ‘Don’t,’ she said. ‘Oh, Joel, don’t say such things. You wouldn’t if you knew what they do to me.’
‘I mean it,’ he said. He leant a little closer, moved his hand and laid it on hers as it rested on the table top. She could feel the warmth of his palm on her flesh. A pause, then he said, ‘I’ve got to go away, in just a few days, and I had to come and see you before I go.’
‘Joel, please,’ she said, withdrawing her hand. ‘Where is this leading us? For heaven’s sake, you come here out of the blue – and you tell me you love me. But it can’t lead anywhere. It can only cause more pain.’
‘Listen to me.’ He gave an urgent little nod. ‘I meant it – when I said I love you. I do. I’ve never stopped loving you.’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘You shouldn’t be talking like this. It’s too late. Too much has happened. We’ve made our own lives now.’
‘No, it’s not too late. Listen to me, Lily. Please. I hurt you. When we met again, over three years ago, after we found one another on the train – I wrote to you, and I hurt you. And I want to tell you how desperately sorry I am. I wanted to tell you this the other day in the square – but I couldn’t. It wasn’t the right time, or the right place. I’ve got to tell you now, though.’ He paused. ‘My letter . . .’
‘Yes . . .’
‘I was cruel. Oh, God, I was cruel.’
‘You did what you had to do,’ she said softly.
He frowned. ‘I – I was so – shocked. Learning of your child. Oh, Lily – nothing prepared me for that.’ He groaned. ‘As I told you – I’m my father’s son in so many ways. I’ve had to face up to that. There’s an old saying that the fruit never
falls far from the tree, and it’s so true. I’m my father’s son, and I’ve been carefully taught.’
Lily opened her mouth to answer, but he lifted a hand. ‘Please – let me speak for a minute.’ He paused then went on, ‘He’s a strong man, my father. A man of strong will and strong principles. He’s very sure of his God, and very sure of his morals and the morals of society – what he sees in others, what he expects from others. It’s not always easy, being his son. And with the death of my brother my father invested even more in me, demanded even more of me. My brother and I – we were very different – but I don’t think my father was ever aware of it, that difference.’ He gazed at her in silence for a moment, then gave a sigh. ‘I turned from you, Lily, because of what had happened to you, because of your child. I turned away from you. It was something I could not – could not deal with. I just couldn’t. It was completely outside my whole – sphere.’
Silence in the little room, silence broken only by the sounds of the rain.
‘I thought I would get over it, in time,’ Joel continued into the quiet. ‘The parting from you, I mean. I thought I would get over you – forget you. It would only be a matter of time. But it didn’t happen. I couldn’t get you out of my head – or my heart. You’ve been there, all the time – and in the end I knew it didn’t matter about what had happened in the past. In your past. You were all that mattered. You had not changed. You were the same person that you always were. The fault was in me – my narrowness, my bigotry – my own limitations.’ He sighed. ‘I know it now. Forgive me, Lily.’
She did not speak.
‘I’ve learnt a lot over these months, these years, and I know how wrong I was. About many things. And I know too, what I feel for you. That you’re everything to me.’
A sudden gust of wind rattled the pane and threw the rain at the glass. The two people did not move.
‘I said just now,’ Joel said, ‘that I’ve got to go away.’
She nodded. ‘Where are you going?’
‘To the Continent.’
‘On business for the stores.’
‘Yes. Not directly to the store in Paris, though. I shall be travelling around a bit first. Quite a bit. I have to visit suppliers in Italy, in Milan and Florence, also in Brussels. I’m going to be very busy. It’s all – most of it – to do with certain fabrics we import.’
‘Expensive fabrics,’ she said, taking refuge in banality.
He smiled. ‘Oh, yes, very expensive. Italian silks, French organzas, Belgian lace. It’s a job my brother used to do. I’ve been learning it as well as I can – with the help of our man who used to work alongside him. He’s away ill, though, so it’s come down to me. I shall finish the trip in Paris. My father will be there by then. He’s going out on business for the store.’
‘Paris,’ Lily said. ‘The young lady, Simone – Miss Roget – is she in Paris?’
He nodded. I intend to see her while I’m there.’ He paused. ‘Because – because I know now that I must – must end it.’
Lily leant back in the chair, one hand rising to her mouth. ‘End it,’ she murmured. ‘With her, Simone.’
‘Yes.’ He gave a deep sigh and turned his head towards the window. ‘I’ve got no choice now. I know that. I’ve come to realise that.’ He turned back to her, looking earnestly into her face. ‘You’ve been on my mind so much – and I can’t go on as I have. It’s you I need in my life, Lily – if I’m to be happy. I can’t live my life for others – my father – Simone. I can’t be that unselfish. I can’t make myself into what others want of me. I have my own needs. And I need you.’
She could think of no words to say, and sat in silence, one hand still raised to her mouth, waiting.
He went on after a moment, ‘Certain things have happened in our lives – in your life and my life, Lily – things we’ve allowed to keep us apart. But no more. I’m twenty-eight now, and in some way perhaps I’ve gained enough sense to see that I’ve been a fool in some of the things I’ve done. But I’m stronger too. And it isn’t too late for us. I know it’s not.’
With a little sigh, Lily said, ‘I think perhaps it’s always been too late for us.’
‘No, don’t say that. It isn’t too late. I can put things right, and I can make it up to you. And I will, believe me.’ He paused. ‘Of course – it all depends on one thing.’
She waited, saying nothing.
‘The big question, Lily,’ he said at last. ‘Do you – do you love me?’
‘Joel –’ she began, ‘how can such –?’
‘Tell me,’ he broke in. ‘I have to know. Do you? Do you love me?’
She gazed at him, her brow creased. ‘I’ve never stopped loving you. I don’t think I ever could.’
He smiled now, a slow smile that transformed his grave expression. ‘That’s all I needed to know. I can do anything now.’
He took out his watch and consulted it again. ‘Five minutes and I shall have to go.’ He slipped it back into his waistcoat pocket and laid his hand over hers. This time she did not draw her hand away. ‘The next time we meet,’ he said, ‘things will be different.’
‘Does Simone – love you, Joel?’ she said.
He gave a reluctant nod, his expression sorrowful. ‘Yes – I believe she does.’
Lily gave a little groan. ‘Poor woman. This will break her heart. Joel, are you sure about this?’
‘Yes, I am. I’ve got to do it. I must, or I’ll regret it the rest of my life.’
Lily was silent for a moment, then she said, ‘Your father, too. You’ll have to speak to him.’
‘Of course, and I don’t mind admitting that I’m dreading it. But – but it must be done.’
‘He knows of me, doesn’t he? You told me he does.’
‘Yes, he does.’
‘And – he knows of the child too.’
‘Yes.’ He was silent for a moment, then he said, ‘Do you ever hear anything of him, Lily – the child?’
‘No.’ She cast her eyes down. ‘He has a life with others. He’s – someone else’s son.’ Immediately she had spoken she wanted to say, But I know where he lives. He’s with a family in Happerfell. But the words remained in her head.
A few moments of silence went by. The rain was easing. ‘Your father,’ she said, ‘how do you think he’ll respond? He’s got his own ideas for your future.’
Joel hesitated, then said, ‘He needs me in the business.’ Then he added, a faint note of defiance in his tone, ‘I can’t let him govern my whole life. My life is my own, and I must live it how I wish. He’ll be unhappy, of course, and angry and disappointed, but that must be borne. Anyway, it won’t last for ever. I’ll make my peace with him. I’m his son, and he loves me – and in time, when he’s come to know you, he’ll love you as I do.’
Lily gave a little sigh. ‘If only people didn’t have to get hurt.’
‘Yes. I wish that too.’
‘I keep thinking of her – the young lady – Simone . . .’
‘I know. It’s going to be the most dreadful humiliation for her, but – there’s no other way.’
Lily realised, dully, that the room was slowly brightening. The rain had ceased and the clouds were clearing.
‘When do you leave – for the Continent?’ she said.
‘Monday morning. I’ll write to you. Shall I be able to reach you at Sherrell?’
‘Only for a few more days. I shall be going to live in Seston – in just over a fortnight. I’ve found a new position.’
He smiled. ‘Oh – I’m glad to hear that. You must be very relieved.’
‘There are five children.’
‘Five. Are you looking forward to it?’
She paused. ‘I shall manage.’
‘You don’t sound that sure.’
‘As I say – I’ll manage. I’m determined to succeed.’
‘And you will. So – can I write to you there?’
‘Yes, of course.’ She took a small notebook and a little pencil from her
reticule, and on a page wrote the Corelmans’ address. ‘But don’t write to me there before the eleventh of September,’ she said as she passed the paper to him. ‘That’s the day I start my duties.’
‘I’ll remember.’ He slipped the paper into his waistcoat pocket. After a moment, he said, ‘I meant to ask about your brother. You said you were hoping to see him.’
‘I did see him. He’s back from London, thank heaven, and working on a farm at Wilton Ferres. Things are looking so much better. I hope to be seeing him again next Friday, if he can get into Corster.’
‘Good. And now you’ve got your position too, in Seston. Things are definitely looking better.’
‘Yes, they are.’ She nodded as she spoke, but she could not keep the shade of doubt from her voice.
‘Listen,’ he said, ‘in two months I’ll be back again. Try to think of that. It’s not going to be easy for me over the next few weeks – I’ve no doubt about that – but once those weeks are over I’ll return, and we shall have the rest of our lives together.’ He pressed her hands and gave a sigh. ‘And now – now I must go.’ He looked over towards the window. ‘Thank heaven the rain’s stopped at last.’ Lily’s glance followed his, and as she took in the rain-washed back yard a woodpecker flew down and alighted on the edge of an old earthenware pot that sat on the roof of the small coal bunker. Perched on the pot’s broken rim, the bird delicately dipped his scarlet-capped head to drink from the collected rain water, then stretched up his throat to swallow. He did it three, four times, and then, lifting his dramatic wings, flew away.
‘He was beautiful,’ Joel said.
‘Yes, he was.’
Joel’s glance left the window and moved over the room, taking in the humble furnishings. ‘I shan’t forget this place,’ he said. He leant forward then and kissed her. The act took her a little by surprise, and made her catch slightly at her breath. His lips were soft upon her mouth, his breath sweet and warm, familiar and yet so new. He drew back a little, then put his hands beneath her arms and lifted her from the chair. In a moment they were standing together by the table. His arms were around her, holding her to him.
‘Tell me again that you love me, Lily,’ he said. ‘Tell me again so that I can keep the words with me. Tell me again.’