by Lesley Eames
‘And only a short train journey away from London,’ he pointed out, cheerful again. ‘You’ll be able to see your godmother and friends often. You can shop in London too, and we can go to the theatre sometimes.’
Lizzie smiled then looked back at the house. It really was lovely.
42
Lizzie returned to London the next morning, unable to stay longer because the show was fast approaching and she needed to rehearse. Harry insisted on driving her, even though he was staying in Surrey for a while longer. He was generous with his time as well as his money. He’d given Lizzie a gold bracelet for Christmas but expressed himself delighted with her more modest gifts of a diary and a leather-bound volume of Just So Stories, his favourite book.
‘The first entry in the diary is going to be the date of the show,’ he told her. ‘I can’t wait to see you perform in one of your charity fundraisers at last.’
They parted with a kiss. ‘I love you, soon-to-be Mrs Benedict,’ Harry said. He paused, then added, ‘I hope you like that name?’ His brown eyes were eager.
‘It’s a wonderful name.’
Rehearsals for the Penrose Singers – the ranks swelled by George – began as soon as Lizzie returned. It was to be her last public performance and, wanting it to be memorable, she was pleased when Cordelia arrived with several yards of silver gauze. ‘It happened to come my way and struck me as being useful for your costumes.’
‘It’s perfect,’ Lizzie assured her.
They were to wear their hats again, this time trimmed with ivy. The silver gauze would look striking wound into the greenery and cascading down behind them. Perhaps there’d be enough gauze for a sash for George.
Every day Lizzie lived in dread of receiving a letter from Edith telling her that Matt had left for America, so when a letter arrived with Edith’s handwriting on the envelope, Lizzie opened it with a dry mouth and a tumult in her stomach. The contents took her by surprise.
I’m coming to see your show! Edith wrote.
Matt leaves for America the day after the show and I told him that, if he wouldn’t stay longer, the least he could do was to give me a treat of my choosing. He told me he’d be glad to give me a treat so naturally I chose a trip to London with tickets to your show.
We’re catching the train down in the morning, staying in a small hotel and then catching the train back the following morning. I hope to fit in one or two of the London sights – Buckingham Palace especially – as well as the show. I can’t tell you how excited I am. I’ve never been on a train before. I’ve never stayed in a hotel either. I’ve never even been out of Staffordshire.
Lizzie reeled. She’d have a chance to see Matt again and restore their friendship even if… Well, even if he still left for America because, with the friendship restored, she could stay in touch and hope to meet him again at some time in the future. It grieved her sorely to think that any such meeting might be many years away. But perhaps it was inevitable that the changing world would bring loss as well as joy in the shape of marriage to Harry.
Singing was going to be another loss. Singing in public, that was. Lizzie felt sad when she seized a quiet moment to stand on the stage in the hour before the show was due to begin, but also determined to perform better than ever before. For the sake of Matt, Edith, Harry, Jack, her fellow performers and all the people who’d receive the funds they raised, Lizzie vowed to sing her heart out.
Harry came backstage just before the performance, bringing flowers and champagne as a contribution to the after-show celebrations. Lizzie hoped Matt and Edith would join the party too. She’d written to invite them but, not having seen them yet, could only trust that they’d arrived in London safely and were sitting in the audience.
Margaret and George opened the show with a piano duet. It was sublime. The notes rose into the air like messengers of joy and the audience loved it. The tone for the evening was set and Lizzie realised she wasn’t alone in wanting this to be the best show of all.
The Penrose Singers performed two songs next, including one of Matt’s more humorous compositions. Lizzie hoped he’d think they’d done justice to it. Certainly the audience enjoyed it.
More acts followed, then, after an interval, Polly and Jack sang a love song. Watching from the wings, Lizzie saw their eyes sparkling with love and knew that their singing couldn’t have been more sincere. The Penrose Singers performed again towards the end of the evening, bringing the show to a close with Lizzie and Polly encouraging the audience to join in. The standing ovation they received couldn’t have been bettered.
Backstage the champagne flowed but Lizzie’s attention was on the door. Harry arrived first. ‘Darling, you were spell-binding!’ he said, folding her into his arms.
Edith appeared in the doorway next, looking shy. Lizzie smiled and beckoned her into the dressing room, her heart kicking inside her chest as her gaze lifted to the tall man who entered behind her. Matt, of course. He was clean-shaven and dressed in civilian clothes, carrying them with the careless elegance of a man in the peak of physical fitness, even if he was still rather thin.
He looked back at her, his green eyes unfathomable, then stepped forward to kiss her cheek. ‘Congratulations on a truly magical evening.’
She’d hoped for the ease of old to settle back over them but instead she felt jangled-up inside. Brittle. ‘I hope you liked the way we performed your song?’
‘It was perfect.’
Lizzie had no fault to find with his words. Nor with the way he said them. But she still felt awkward. Almost tearful.
Polly and Jack came over. Margaret and George too. Introductions were made and congratulations offered on both the show and the forthcoming weddings. Watching Matt speak to the others so kindly, Lizzie wondered how she could put things right but soon Matt was deep in conversation with George and her chance of a few minutes alone with him began to fade away.
Frustrated, she turned to Edith who was as fresh and sweet as ever as she spoke of her excitement in coming to London and seeing the show. ‘I’m so glad you got to see Buckingham Palace,’ Lizzie said.
‘It was wonderful! Did I tell you that Matt’s buying a tractor for us from the money he’s earning from his songs?’
‘You didn’t. But it sounds just like Matt.’
‘He’s a special man,’ Edith said.
The party was getting crowded, so someone suggested taking it onto the stage. The piano Margaret and George had used stood there still, and people began to plead for music. Once Matt’s identity became known a clamour went up for him to perform some of his best-known songs.
He began with ‘Pick Yourself Up’ and everyone sang along. Then he sang a ballad by himself, his low voice drawing them in with its hypnotic quality.
‘You should come and sing in The Velvet Slipper Club,’ Jack called.
Matt smiled politely then said, ‘This is a new song. I’ve called it “Distance”.’
He played the introductory notes then began to sing.
There’s a distance between us, a stretch of blue sea,
Storm-tossed or still, it keeps us apart.
With no way to cross it, together to be,
I stand on the shore with bruised, broken heart.
Lizzie found her own heartbeat had quickened.
‘I’ve done all I can,’ Edith whispered in her ear.
‘What?’ Startled, Lizzie whirled around to face her but Edith was already weaving through the crowd towards Polly.
‘All right?’ Harry murmured, placing his arm around Lizzie’s shoulder.
She nodded but felt more unsettled than ever. The remaining words of the song washed over her and, with her thoughts turned inwards, she forgot to applaud at the end until she realised everyone else was clapping.
George played next. He started with ‘The Girl With Grey Eyes’, which had Margaret blushing adorably, then moved onto some lively tunes that had people dancing. Even Margaret shuffled from foot to foot for probably the first time in her life.
Harry whisked Lizzie into a twirl and she forced a laugh, hating the thought of worrying him with her strange mood. ‘It’s been a fabulous evening, hasn’t it?’ he asked.
‘The best!’
She laughed again as Jack grabbed her for another twirl. No one was dancing formally. They were simply jigging and whirling about. Someone whistled at Margaret and she responded by throwing her arms into the air with merry abandon to a round of cheers from everyone else.
Matt danced too. With Edith, and then with Margaret. But he didn’t approach Lizzie.
Polly claimed Harry for a dance and at that moment Lizzie saw Matt talking to Edith and gesturing to his watch. Lizzie hastened over. ‘You’re not leaving already?’
‘It’s been a lovely evening but we have a train to catch at ten tomorrow and we both have busy days ahead,’ Matt explained. ‘Edith needs to be back at the farm and I’m travelling on to Liverpool to catch the boat.’
‘I’ll fetch my bag,’ Edith said, gliding away.
Lizzie looked up at Matt and felt physical pain. ‘I wish you weren’t going to America.’
‘I have to go.’
‘You can do well with your music here.’
‘My music has nothing to do with it. Surely you know why I have to go, Lizzie?’
She stared at him, confused. Yet not entirely confused.
‘Staying here… Being with you and seeing what we could do with our music… Writing more songs… Perhaps even performing in Jack’s club… It would be incredible. But you love another man,’ he said. ‘I need to go away or I won’t be able to bear it.’
With that he left her to say his goodbyes to the others.
Dazed, Lizzie followed and stood by as he shook hands with Harry.
‘Have a safe journey home and I hope America turns out well for you,’ Harry said.
Matt nodded. ‘You’ll look after Lizzie?’ He glanced at her with a wounded softness that cut into her like broken glass.
Harry squeezed her close. ‘I’ll guard her with my life.’
‘You’ll write?’ Lizzie begged Matt.
He smiled and gave something that might have been a nod but might equally have been evasion.
Edith looked troubled. She too shook Harry’s hand and kissed Lizzie but said nothing more than a murmured goodbye, perhaps because she didn’t know what to say. Had she guessed that Matt had feelings for Lizzie? Of course she had. Her trip to London made sense now. She’d been playing the matchmaker. But Matt was right. Lizzie loved Harry. She was going to marry him.
Lizzie watched brother and sister leave the party then Harry whisked her into the dance again. She smiled up at him but her throat felt horribly tight as though it were holding back a flood of grief.
She could hide from the truth no longer. Yes, she loved Harry. But she also loved Matt and not just as a friend. Lizzie didn’t know how it was possible to love two men at the same time. It was wrong. Shameful in fact. But undeniable.
‘It’s going to be a busy year with three weddings,’ Harry said. ‘We really must start planning ours soon.’
‘Yes,’ Lizzie answered. ‘We must.’
He beamed down at her. ‘I never knew I was capable of so much happiness until I met you, darling girl.’
43
Lizzie was exhausted by the time the party ended, desperate to be alone to sort through her shattered feelings. But first there were glasses and bottles to clear. Lizzie threw herself into the work with as many smiles as she could muster.
Afterwards Harry drove her home along with Margaret and Polly, who was staying the night in Marchmont Row.
He waited until Margaret and Polly had gone into the house then said, ‘May I call tomorrow?’
‘I’d like that.’
‘Until tomorrow, then.’ He took her into his arms and kissed her.
Lizzie kissed him back but tears threatened again, and, when he released her, she couldn’t meet his gaze. Harry was wonderful in every way. The guilt of loving Matt too was awful.
‘You’re tired,’ Harry said kindly. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’
Gallant as ever, he walked her to the door then left.
Margaret and Polly were in the kitchen. ‘I don’t know about you two, but I want my bed,’ Lizzie announced, needing to flee from them urgently.
‘You don’t want a cup of tea first?’ Polly asked.
‘Not on top of all that champagne. What a terrific show it was. Terrific party too.’
Unable to say more, Lizzie bolted upstairs and threw herself onto her bed. When had she fallen in love with Matt? She supposed the love she’d felt for him as a child – that extraordinary closeness and sense of being at one with him – had simply grown up as she had. But by the time she’d met him again as a woman she’d been committed to Harry. So, she’d labelled her feelings as friendship – until that day on the farm when they’d crept out to show they actually had a different identity. Even then she’d tried to argue them away by blaming them on missing Harry.
Clearly Matt had fallen in love with her too. He’d behaved honourably by retreating from her. But he was hurting. After tonight Lizzie had no doubt of that.
She buried her face in her pillow and sobbed.
Lizzie felt wretched when she went downstairs the following morning. She was glad when Polly had to rush off early while Margaret had to sort through some music for George, sparing Lizzie the necessity of pretending all was well. She only hoped she could put on a show of good cheer when Harry came later.
She didn’t expect him to arrive early and assumed the milkman had called to collect his weekly payment when a knock sounded on the door at nine o’clock. But it was Harry on the step. ‘Will you come for a drive?’ he asked. ‘Blow the cobwebs away after last night’s partying?’
‘Of course.’ Lizzie dug inside herself for some energy. ‘Come in while I get ready.’
She went up to her room to put on her coat and hat, pausing to breathe in deeply before re-joining Harry with a smile. ‘Where are we going?’
‘It’s a surprise.’
Were they going down to Surrey to see inside the house he’d pointed out to her? Lizzie felt weak at the thought of a long journey but, wanting Harry to enjoy his surprise, she kept her dread to herself. She couldn’t sit in silence, though. ‘I was impressed by your dancing last night,’ she said.
Harry looked pleased. ‘I’m not a natural dancer like you, but it was fun. I was so proud of you and all the money you raised. I saw many men fall in the war and few of them were wealthy. I know their families receive pensions, but they don’t go far. Your fundraising should help to relieve real hardship.’
They continued to talk of the show until Lizzie realised Harry had come to a halt outside Euston station.
‘We’re here,’ he announced.
Oh, no. Had he brought her here to wave off Matt and Edith? Lizzie wasn’t sure she could see Matt again. Not without breaking down.
‘Go to him,’ Harry said. ‘Go to Matt.’
‘I don’t think—’ She broke off, frowning.
Harry wasn’t smiling now. He looked serious. A little sad. It confused her.
‘He loves you and you love him,’ Harry added gently.
What? Lizzie stared at him. Shocked. Dismayed. ‘Harry, I’m engaged to you. Committed to you. Not out of obligation, but because I love you.’ And she hated to see the pain that had entered the kind brown eyes.
‘I believe you do love me. But the way you love Matt is… different.’
‘I—’
‘Matt is your soulmate, Lizzie. I’m not.’
She shook her head to deny it, but his words acted on her like a revelation, understanding bursting into her mind like a firework lighting up darkness. Her feelings made sense now. Much as she cared for Harry, she and Matt were two halves of a whole. Soulmates indeed.
‘You’re a special person, Lizzie,’ Harry said. ‘I realise how hard you’ve tried to love only me, and I’ll always be gra
teful for the time we had together. Your letters comforted me enormously when I was in France and your smiles warmed me when I was on leave. But I think I’ve always known it wasn’t to be. We’re different people who want different things. I want the sort of steady life my parents have in leafy Surrey. But keeping you there would be like caging up an exotic bird which thrives in sunnier climes. We’d both do our best to make our marriage work, but it wouldn’t make either of us feel happy and fulfilled. Not in the long term.’
He pulled a rueful face. ‘I never took you to the jewellers to have the ring made smaller, did I? Perhaps I always knew deep down that you’d never wear my ring.’
‘Harry, I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. My life’s richer for having met you, and I’ll never regret digging you out of the rubble of that bombsite. Now it’s time for us to part, but we’ll do so as friends. You deserve to be happy, Lizzie.’
‘So do you!’
‘I’ve every intention of being happy, and I’m sure there’s a girl out there who’ll want nothing more than to settle down to a domestic life with me in Surrey. But that girl isn’t you, Lizzie. Go now. Chase your own happiness before it sails away to America. And don’t worry about my family. They’ll understand.’
Lizzie hesitated then threw her arms around him. He let her hold him close for a moment then tilted her chin so she was looking up at him. ‘There’s no need for tears, darling girl. We’re both going to be fine.’
‘You’re an amazing man, Harry Benedict.’
She took his ring from the silver chain around her neck and gave it back to him. Then she got out of the car, blew him a final kiss and raced into the station.
It was busy. So very busy.
But there they were. One tall, manly figure. One slight and feminine.
‘Matt!’ she called. ‘Edith!’
Both figures turned. Edith smiled first. Matt looked as though he couldn’t quite believe Lizzie was here. Couldn’t quite believe what he must be seeing in her expression.
But then a look of wonder passed over his face and was followed by a smile. He put down his suitcase to hold out his arms. And Lizzie ran to him. The one true love of her life. Her soulmate.