by Erica James
‘And if I don’t submit to your . . . your request, what then?’
Ralph laughed. ‘Is that something you really want to put to the test?’
‘You realise, don’t you, that your accusations boil down to nothing more than your word against mine?’
‘No smoke without fire, as they say, so that should be sufficient to blacken your name amongst the august folk of the county.’
‘Do you really believe I give a damn about such things?’
‘Oh, I think you give quite a damn about your social standing. Why else do you live here in this mausoleum? You love to lord it over the rest of the village, particularly your family. So how about it?’
Arthur tutted. ‘How much are you hoping to extract from me.’
‘Twenty-five thousand would suit me.’ Ralph knew this was a staggering amount of money, but in for a penny, in for a pound.
‘Twenty-five thousand pounds!’ exploded Arthur. At his temple a thick ropy vein throbbed, and his chins wobbled; he looked on the verge of an apoplectic fit.
‘I call that a bargain, given what I know.’
‘I’d sooner call it daylight robbery. If I agree, will you then leave and never make the same demand of me?’
‘Happily. But don’t think for one moment of cancelling the cheque. Do that, and I shall do my worst. If we have an agreement, I’ll go upstairs and pack. But not before saying goodbye to Julia and Charles.’
His father looked as if he were about to object, but then merely nodded.
Twenty minutes later, and with the requested cheque safely in his hand, Ralph went in search of Julia. He expected to find her in her parlour, but Charles was there alone reading a book. ‘Charlie-Boy,’ he said quietly, ‘I want you to do something for me. Go and pack a small bag of your favourite things, and a few clothes. Can you do that?’
‘Are we going somewhere?’ the boy asked anxiously.
‘Yes. But it’s a surprise. A secret. So not a word to your father.’
‘Is Mummy coming with us?’
‘Of course.’
The boy nodded and slipped off the chair. ‘If you’re looking for Mummy, I think she went upstairs.’
Wondering what she was doing up there, Ralph climbed the stairs, just as he had last night. On the landing he saw that Miss Casey’s door was ajar. He pushed it further open and saw Julia inside the room.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked.
‘After what you said about Miss Casey, I came up here to see if I could find any evidence of what you’d hinted at between her and Arthur.’
‘I’m sorry I did that in front of you and Charles. I should have waited until I had my father on his own.’
‘I don’t care about that. But look what I’ve found.’
Standing in front of a dressing table, she pointed to an opened drawer. Going over to take a look, he frowned at what he saw. ‘Is that what I think it is?’ he said.
‘Yes,’ Julia murmured. ‘And it all makes sense now.’
He had no idea what she meant, but he quickly told her what she had to do next.
Chapter Eighty
Island House, Melstead St Mary
December 1962
Evelyn
Evelyn had had half a mind to feign sickness and back out of Christmas lunch at Island House, but she knew it would have raised too many questions. In particular from Kit, who would have worried what had brought on the sudden illness.
So after they had tramped through the snow on foot to attend that morning’s brief Christmas Day service at church, they had arrived at Island House where Evelyn was forced to make an enormous effort to behave as normally as possible.
The shock she had experienced on hearing Max’s voice on the telephone yesterday explaining about him and Isabella had now been compounded by something even more unbelievable. With something of a dramatic flourish, Isabella had revealed over a glass of champagne in the drawing room that she and Max were to be married. The announcement had caused Evelyn very nearly to choke on her champagne. While everybody else had greeted the news with astonished delight, Evelyn had caught Romily’s eye and detected a wary look of apprehension. And rightly so. What did Isabella think she was doing? And what was Max up to? Marriage? Him?
Thank God for Romily’s other house guest. With a naturally affable way of chatting to everybody, Red St Clair brought a breath of fresh air to the proceedings. Now as they ate lunch, which apparently Red had helped Romily prepare, he and Kit were engaged in a conversation about Kit’s time spent in Canada learning to fly. It turned out that they had a mutual friend who had trained at the same flying school. What were the chances?
And what were the chances of Max being a faithful husband? Evelyn looked across the dining table to where he was sitting between Isabella and Em. He was amusing them with some tale about a puppy he’d been given as a child, and how the dog had been utterly devoted to him. It was on the tip of Evelyn’s razor-sharp tongue to interrupt the conversation and say, ‘Well, that’s Max for you, he always could instil slavish devotion.’ She wisely said nothing.
‘You’ve always had a wonderful way with dogs, haven’t you?’ said Isabella to Stanley.
Before he could reply, Em said, ‘I’d have loved to have a dog, but Mum wouldn’t let me.’
‘And with good reason,’ responded Evelyn. ‘It would have been left to me to house-train and take care of it while you were away at school.’
‘But wouldn’t you like a dog now?’ continued Em.
‘Why now?’
‘Well, because it won’t be long before Pip and I won’t be spending anywhere near as much time at home and it would be nice for you and Dad to have one. You know, for company. Don’t you think?’
Evelyn frowned, but Kit laughed. ‘Careful, Em, you’re making us sound as if we’re dangerously close to slipping into our dotage.’
Glancing further down the table, Evelyn thought how tired Annelise looked. Like Edmund, she was unusually quiet. The most Edmund had said since arriving was to say how awful he felt at not being at the hospital with Hope.
More food was passed around, and then Kit brought up a subject Evelyn would have preferred he hadn’t. Not with Max at the table.
‘Edmund,’ said Kit, ‘have you discovered if anyone else has received an anonymous letter like the ones Hope and Evelyn have been sent?’
Before he had a chance to reply, Isabella let out a hoot of laughter. ‘Anonymous letters,’ she repeated, ‘what’s all this about?’
Pip laughed too. ‘Don’t tell me there’s some frustrated old biddy in the village with nothing better to do than write poison pen letters!’
‘Who’s the suspect?’ joined in Em. ‘And why didn’t you say anything, Mum? Oh, this is straight out of a murder mystery novel, isn’t it, Romily? What a lark!’
‘Hardly a lark, I’m afraid,’ replied Romily.
‘No,’ agreed Evelyn. ‘I’m afraid it’s not as funny as you youngsters seem to think it is.’ Across the table she felt Max’s eyes on her. She hoped to goodness he would keep his mouth shut and not let on that she had already spoken to him about the first letter she received.
‘Evelyn’s right,’ asserted Edmund. ‘I’m convinced that if it weren’t for the letter Hope was sent, she wouldn’t be where she is now.’
‘You mean the two things are connected?’ asked Red. ‘Her accident and the letter? Hell, what kind of village is this?’
‘The same as any other,’ said Romily with a sigh. She was about to say something else, when from the hall came the sound of the telephone ringing.
She was gone no more than a few seconds before she returned. ‘Edmund,’ she said. ‘That was the hospital. They’ve been trying to ring you at Fairview for the last hour.’
The colour drained from his face. ‘But I rang them to say I’d be here.’
‘Somehow the message was mislaid. But it’s wonderful news. Hope is awake and asking for you.’
Chapter Eighty-One
Chelstead Cottage Hospital, Chelstead
December 1962
Romily
It was anybody’s guess how long it would take them to reach the hospital, but nothing was going to stop Romily from making the journey.
Firstly, she telephoned her nearest neighbour, Reggie Potters of Holmewood Farm, to ask if she could borrow his Land Rover. As soon as he knew the reason why, he was only too keen to agree. She gave Edmund no choice in the matter as to who would drive, telling him he would be too agitated to get them to the hospital safely. It was better that she be the one to do it.
The Land Rover had three seats and a rear canvas hood, under which Kit and Evelyn, along with Red, and wrapped in blankets to keep warm, were hunkered down as best they could. Twisting her head round to check that they were okay, Romily saw Red grinning back at her through the smudged glass. He gave her a thumbs-up sign.
Red had been keen to accompany them on the basis that some extra muscle-power wouldn’t go amiss if they were to find themselves stuck in a snowdrift. They’d loaded the Land Rover up with blankets, turkey sandwiches, mince pies, and thermos flasks of coffee, as well as spades and shovels to dig themselves out if needs be.
Not since the war had Romily driven a vehicle of this sort, and gripping the steering wheel with her gloved hands, the wipers only just keeping up with clearing the windscreen of snow, she was determined not to be defeated by the treacherous conditions. With each hazardous snowdrift they pushed through, she experienced a thrill of exhilaration.
Crammed against the passenger door, and constantly fidgeting, Edmund alternated between leaning forward, as though urging Romily to go faster, and throwing himself against the back of the seat. When he wasn’t doing that, he was wiping the steamed-up windscreen.
Next to Romily, Annelise was sitting perfectly still, her mittened hands resting on her lap. Had they been alone, Romily would have asked how she was feeling and whether or not she had reached a decision about the baby.
They saw no other traffic, not until they were about a mile from the hospital. Coming towards them in the blizzard was a tractor; it was towing a small car with its front caved in. Very carefully, Romily slowed her speed to a stop, then wound down the side window. The driver of the tractor stopped also. ‘We’re trying to get to the hospital,’ she said, ‘what do you reckon to our chances?’
‘Now that I’ve cleared the road of this abandoned car you should make it. Be sure to keep your speed low. And don’t hang about for your return journey, the forecast is for the temperature to drop dramatically. Happy Christmas to you,’ he added with a smile.
‘And to you too,’ she replied, winding the window back up. ‘That’s a stroke of luck for us,’ she said, when she had the Land Rover into gear and was moving again.
‘Yes,’ said Annelise, ‘it was good of that man to help clear the road.’
Edmund’s only response was to give the windscreen another wipe.
When they reached their destination, and before Romily had switched off the engine, Edmund was out of the Land Rover and all but running across the snow-covered parking area. Annelise stayed where she was.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Romily.
‘What if Hope remembers my confession and asks me about the baby in front of everyone?’
‘I suggest we cross that bridge if we need to,’ Romily replied.
‘Nice driving from you,’ said Red, after he and the others had clambered out of the back of the Land Rover and Kit, Evelyn and Annelise went on ahead. ‘I hardly felt a skid or a bump.’
‘I’m relieved to hear it,’ she said. ‘It couldn’t have been very comfortable for you. How’s your leg?’
‘Hey,’ he said, putting a hand on her arm just as they reached the shelter of the entrance porch to the old Victorian hospital. ‘You’ve gotta stop worrying about me.’
‘I ask because I care, is that so very wrong?’
‘It’s wrong if you think I’m a has-been who needs fussing over.’
‘I don’t fuss,’ she said indignantly.
‘Yes you do. I’ve been here less than forty-eight hours and I’ve seen first-hand how you fuss over your family.’
She frowned at his perception. ‘Is that such a bad thing?’
‘The only fussing I want from you is when you’re lying next to me in bed. Then you can do all the fussing you like!’
Smiling, she shook her head at him. ‘You Americans are all the same, only ever happy when dishing out the orders.’
‘Like you Brits are never slow to do the same thing.’
‘But we always ask so politely.’
He laughed. ‘We’re gonna drive each other nuts, aren’t we?’
‘You’re certainly giving it your best shot,’ she said. Then: ‘Come on, let’s catch up with the others and hear what the latest is on Hope.’
‘Before we do,’ he said, ‘I think you should know that things were getting pretty intense on the way here.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Kit asked Evelyn several times what she thought about Isabella and Max marrying.’
‘And?’
‘Let’s just say to begin with she was tight-lipped, very reluctant to give her opinion. But when she did, boy, the floodgates opened. It was quite something. Is there some kind of history between them?’
Romily knew what Red was really asking and saw no reason not to be honest with him. ‘Evelyn is the one I told you about, who made the mistake of growing too close to Max some years back.’
‘Yeah, I guessed as much.’
‘It was before she married Kit,’ she added.
‘And does Kit know?’
‘No. And it must stay that way.’
She was about to make a move towards the door to go inside, when he said, ‘Do you think that’s fair?’
Surprised at his question, she said, ‘It’s not for me to judge what couples keep from one another. But I do know this, Evelyn has always tended to protect Kit and she would want to spare him any unnecessary pain.’
‘Because she feels guilty?’
‘I wouldn’t like to say. But everybody has secrets which, for whatever reason, they keep from their loved ones.’
‘I wouldn’t keep any from you,’ he said, his expression serious. ‘I’ve already told you more about myself than I’ve told anyone else. I hope you realise what that means.’
Romily kissed his cold cheek. ‘I do. I really do. But come on, let’s go inside before we freeze to death out here.’
She led the way to the waiting room where she had sat many a time when here to visit Hope. The area had been festively decked out with brightly coloured decorations; there was even a small Christmas tree in one corner. Kit and Evelyn were already there and in the process of removing the many layers they’d worn to get here.
‘Any news on Hope?’ asked Romily.
Kit shook his head. ‘No. Edmund and Annelise are with her now.’
‘I doubt they’ll let us all see her,’ said Evelyn, unwinding the scarf from around her neck and sitting down.
‘You’re probably right,’ said Kit, ‘but she’ll know that we came, that’s the main thing.’
‘Do you suppose there’s any chance we might be able to get a hot drink here?’ asked Red. ‘I know we have the thermos flasks in the Land Rover, but it might be better to keep them for the journey home, just in case.’
‘If anybody can charm a nurse into letting us use their kitchen,’ said Romily with a smile, ‘it would be you.’
‘Hey Kit, you probably know your way round here pretty well, how about you come with me and help carry the cups back?’
‘Did I just witness your American fr
iend performing an act of international diplomacy?’ asked Evelyn, when the two men had left them alone and Romily was sitting next to her.
‘I believe you might be right. He mentioned that there had been a certain amount of tension between you and Kit on the way here.’
Evelyn sighed. ‘I’m sorry that it was that blatant.’
‘Max, I presume?’
‘Yes. What on earth is he doing with Isabella? Apart from the obvious.’ Her voice was taut with angry disbelief.
‘I thought the same yesterday when he showed up,’ said Romily. ‘But as much as it pains me to say, he seems genuinely to care about Isabella. And from what she tells me, he looked after her extremely well when she was ill in bed with bronchitis. Haven’t you noticed how attentive to her he is? She only has to cough and he’s like a mother hen checking that she’s all right.’
Evelyn didn’t look convinced. ‘But marriage. It’s unthinkable. And they’ve known each other for so short a time. Mark my words, it won’t last. He’ll soon grow bored and start chasing after some other girl.’
‘Trust me, I have the same concern,’ Romily said, ‘but if I had heeded the so-called warnings people gave me about Jack, I would have missed out on the love of my life.’
With a roll of her eyes, Evelyn said, ‘You can’t really think that Max could be the love of Isabella’s life, do you?’
‘I have no idea. But I don’t think we have any choice but to give him the benefit of the doubt and let him prove himself.’
‘I can’t believe he’s fooled you.’
‘Evelyn, it’s not a question of him fooling me, it’s Isabella whom he has to convince.’
‘But he’s only been at Island House for twenty-four hours, you can’t possibly be that sure of him. What would Elijah and her mother think?’
‘Reluctantly they would have to do what we have to do, and that is allow Isabella to go her own way.’
‘No matter the consequences and how painful they might be?’
Romily nodded. ‘It’s what you’ll have to do with Pip and Em one day.’