‘I’ll drive you home, Rebecca,’ Neville said, holding out his arm to her then looking at Alex in challenge.
Absentmindedly smoothing his hands over the crying boy’s back, Alex looked into Rebecca’s face and waited for her reaction. Rebecca knew she couldn’t allow Neville to drive her home even though she wanted his strong arms round her at that moment. Before she could think of a suitable reply, Trease butted in.
‘Rebecca’s coming home with me,’ he snapped and stalked off.
Alex’s expression did not change and a moment later he led Stephen away.
‘They don’t own you, Rebecca,’ Neville said angrily. ‘Come with me now and make a stand. I talked to Mrs Wright this morning. She told me that the Major is already much stronger, but even if he does have one of his mad turns it’s not your responsibility to nurse him through every one.’
‘I’d better go with my father, Neville,’ Rebecca sighed, rubbing at her forehead.
‘You do want to be with me?’ He held her face and tried to kiss her, even though they now had an audience of smiling young nurses who were going off duty.
‘Yes, of course I do,’ she said rapidly, pushing his hands away and moving her face from the region of his lips. ‘I must go now, Neville. Don’t try to stop me.’
‘When will I see you?’ he demanded, holding her tightly. ‘You can struggle all you like but I’m not letting you go until you promise to see me tomorrow, Rebecca. Surely you’re not expected to work on a Sunday. If you don’t promise me then I’ll come over to Trevallion first thing in the morning, you can count on that.’
‘No, don’t do that,’ she said in a panicky voice. ‘I’ll meet you in Victoria Gardens tomorrow morning, about eleven o’clock, after I’ve come here first to see how Tamsyn is. Now let me go, Neville. If my father comes back and sees us like this there’ll be even more trouble.’
‘I don’t care,’ Neville said vehemently. ‘I told you in my letter how I feel about you and I won’t let anyone stand in my way.’
‘Rebecca!’ Trease shouted from the door. He only used her full name when he was furious with her. Neville let her go but not before he had kissed her swiftly on the lips.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow like you promised or I’ll be out to Trevallion within the hour.’
‘Don’t be late tomorrow,’ one of the nurses called out cheekily to Rebecca.
Rebecca thought she would scream with rage. What sort of mood would Alex be in now? She walked wearily to join her father, knowing she was in for a barrage of angry questions from him about Neville Faull.
* * *
Alex went into the kitchen to gaze down at the scene of the accident. Tamsyn’s screams were still echoing inside his head. Ivy and Emily had cleaned up the mess and kept the dinner warm but no one had eaten a thing and Abigail had sent them and Stephen to bed. She had said she was going to retire herself but Alex knew she had slipped out to see Joe and he envied her for having someone to turn to.
On the kitchen table lay Rebecca’s letter from Neville. Alex read her name and recognised Neville’s handwriting. He picked the letter up and turned round as he heard footsteps behind him.
‘You’ve come for this?’ he asked Rebecca in a soft quiet voice, holding the letter out to her.
She took it from him without a word. She waited for him to speak and hoped it wouldn’t be anything similar to the furious tirade pitted with foul words and vile accusations about her character that she had received from Trease.
She was so tired. Tamsyn’s pain and Loveday and Stephen’s grief hung heavily over her and she was afraid the terrible event would send Alex into his world of nightmares. Neville turning up at the infirmary was the final straw. But she had seen Alex as a strong and able man today. He had been there to rescue and comfort her when she’d been terrified of being trapped in the profound blackness of the abandoned mine. He had taken charge of Tamsyn’s accident. He had comforted Stephen. Was he likely to have a nightmare? She looked into his face. Not if he was as quiet and self-assured inside as he seemed outwardly. He looked steadily back at her.
Rebecca suddenly wished she had left Trevallion before Alex had inherited it, and yet she knew she wouldn’t have wanted to miss knowing him. He was a noble man, kind and caring, quite unconscious of class barriers. He was not always easy to read and understand but he was honest and likeable. Oh, but he was more than likeable, much, much more. To add to the complexities of her feelings, Rebecca was now aware that she was torn between him and Neville. She sighed and her body seemed to cave in; she was amazed to find herself still on her feet. She glanced down at the letter in her hand then back at Alex.
What if you are torn between these two particular men? she asked herself. At the end of the day you can’t have either of them, at least not for good.
Alex looked sad but had nothing to say to her. He simply nodded, and said in the same quiet voice, ‘Goodnight, Becca,’ then he left her standing there alone.
* * *
‘Bloody hell and blast fires! Damned girl. Did she think I brought her up to go out with that ruddy swine?’
‘I won’t tell you again, Trease,’ Basil Hartley said sharply to his drunken customer across the bar. ‘Stop that bad language or I’ll ban you from coming here for the next six months. It’s nearly closing time. Victor is about to go home, why don’t you go with him in his boat?’
‘I’ll row me bloody self home,’ Trease said stubbornly, shrugging off Victor Jenkins’ hand from his shoulder.
‘You’re in no fit state, Trease,’ Victor said sternly. ‘Come on, I’m going back to the creek.’
‘Then go back! I don’t need a nursemaid. I’ve rowed home many a time in a worse state than this.’
‘But you aren’t usually so upset,’ Basil said, glancing at Victor. The two men exchanged a look of mutual determination to carry Trease out of the inn and into Victor’s rowing boat.
‘Oh no, you don’t!’ shouted Trease, slamming his hand on the bar. ‘I know what you’re up to. Just leave me alone.’
The last two customers in the bar got up, tut-tutting and shaking their heads, and left the inn.
‘That’s right, bugger off the pair of you,’ Trease bawled after them. ‘I don’t like drinking with your sort anyway.’
‘Trease!’ Basil pointed a warning finger. ‘Either you go peacefully now or you’re barred for the next six months.’
Tears suddenly welled up in Trease’s bleary eyes. ‘Poor little maid. She’s Stanley’s little maid, his little baby and he never ever saw her. And now her mother’s got someone else. “Her fiancé,” he said as bold as brass, a bighead solicitor, marrying Stanley’s wife.’
‘Stanley’s widow,’ Victor gently corrected him, not fully understanding what Trease was rambling about.
‘Bah! All women are the bloody same. Look at my precious daughter, my Rebecca. Now the Major’s made her his assistant she’s got ideas above herself, going out with that blasted Neville Faull. Neville Faull! We all know what he’s after! Just like her mother, just like Nancy Ann.’
Basil and Victor knew Trease was upset over Tamsyn’s accident but they didn’t know what to make of his babblings about Rebecca and Loveday.
‘He’s in no fit state to row home,’ Basil whispered to Victor. ‘When he’s had too much to drink in one of these moods he feels the whole world’s against him.’
Victor nodded but when the two men looked at Trease he was standing bolt upright smoothing one hand over his hair and wiping beer froth off his moustache with the other.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said feebly. ‘I’m just upset over the little maid. I’ll be all right. There’s no need to worry about me, I’ll just take a walk and breathe in a little fresh air and I’ll row myself home.’
‘You’re welcome to stay here for the night,’ Basil offered.
‘I’d rather go home, thank you all the same,’ Trease said firmly.
He seemed calm and reasonable and Basil and Victor reluctantly allowed
him to have his own way.
Trease stayed out of sight on the river bank while Victor rowed away and all the pub’s lights went out. He had made a supreme effort to appear sober in the pub but now he was stumbling and lurching about. The angry things he had said out loud were going round in a turmoil in his mind and every so often he swore profusely and stamped his boots.
When all was dark and quiet, he lurched towards his rowing boat. He untied the mooring rope and without bothering to pull the boat in close to shore he jumped into three feet of cold water and cursed as he hauled his body clumsily on board. The boat rocked wildly as he tried to find the seat and sit down.
‘Bloody Nancy Ann! Bitch!’ The rowing boat had once been called Nancy Ann but Trease had painted it out years ago and had never renamed it. He blamed the boat now for all his problems.
Grabbing the oars he managed to push out into the flow of the river and head for home. With a dark band of cloud obliterating the moon and a thick mist rising off the water, his one good eye had trouble seeing where he was going. He thrashed at the water with the oars and sent the boat on a haphazard passage. Once he rowed into the bank, which painfully jarred his neck.
‘Hell to it! Hell to everything! I wish I was dead!’
Tears of frustration seared his puffy cheeks and he threw one of the oars away. He beat on the seat with his fists and howled in rage. He kicked out with his feet, trying to make a huge hole in first the side then the bottom of the boat, but it was too well crafted and he achieved nothing more than a lot of noise which reverberated across the lonely waters.
He’d gasped in so much oxygen lambasting the world and everyone in it he began to hyperventilate and had to force himself to calm down. When his breathing was under control he sat and stared vacantly into the mist-laden night air. He shivered and put his hands on his arms to rub them and realised he had left his coat in the pub. It was only a little thing, forgetting his coat, but it fed his belief that the whole world was against him and sent him into a fury again. Clutching the sides of the boat he rocked and rocked, making water splash over him. The boat moved away from the bank and drifted off in the current. The other oar fell out of the rowlock and floated away.
‘That’s right!’ Trease ranted after it, spittle drooling down his chin. ‘Desert me too! Everybody deserts me. Nancy Ann left me. Joe didn’t want my friendship when we got back from the war. Loveday’s got herself a fancy solicitor. Rebecca too. My daughter! Letting me down, turning out like her rotten mother.’
Although he tried to block them out, Tamsyn’s burns filled his head and he gave a great cry of anguish. ‘Oh God! Stanley’s little maid. Poor little Tamsyn. Nothing ever goes right! What’s the bloody use? Even Captain Miles left the estate.’
He brought to mind all the things and people who had hurt him, his drunkenness distorting everything. He saw Neville Faull taking Rebecca’s hand in the infirmary and he imagined them in bed together. And then it wasn’t Rebecca’s face he saw in ecstasy in the throes of lovemaking with the handsome young solicitor but Nancy Ann’s.
He beat at his face with his fists, howling like a tormented animal. He wanted physical pain equal to that of his emotional agony. ‘No! No! No! I can’t bear it.’
The boat was in deep water, drifting slowly with the flow of the river. Trease suddenly stood up and the boat rocked precariously. His head was spinning and his balance unsteady. He lurched forward and toppled out of the boat. As he hit the water he instinctively twisted his body and rolled over onto his back. He floated with ease. The water was soothing and he felt that somehow it had arms and was holding him close and comforting him. The mist was like a covering of soft blankets and Trease relaxed and let the current take him. He felt safe and warm and sleepy. He closed his eyes with a peaceful smile. He’d go to sleep now. And he knew nothing would ever hurt or worry him again.
Chapter 34
As Rebecca walked from the infirmary to Victoria Gardens she thought about Neville’s letter. She had read the few hurriedly written sentences many times and knew each word by heart.
My darling Rebecca,
I have to go to London for a week on Monday and I’ll go quite mad if I don’t see you before then. I’ve missed you terribly. I shall be back on the property at 8 o’clock tonight. Meet me by the gatehouse or I’ll come looking for you.
With my love,
Neville.
Last night Neville had said his letter would tell her how he felt about her. His words were impatient, ardent, passionate, but Rebecca wasn’t sure they declared he loved her. She’d never thought she had a future with Neville but what he’d written did not depict him as the cad that Alex had called him. She hadn’t seen him alone for several days and, despite her torn feelings over Alex, she knew she had missed him.
She hadn’t told Neville exactly where she would meet him in the gardens and thought she’d look for him by the bandstand. That was the usual meeting place for lovers. She followed the course of the Leats, a wide steady stream that ran past the gardens and on through the town. She saw Neville waiting for her at the main gates that led into the gardens. He walked rapidly to meet her and immediately took her into his arms.
‘I was afraid you weren’t coming.’
‘It’s only ten past eleven,’ she said, looking up into his anxious face. ‘I’ve been talking to Loveday at the infirmary.’
‘How is her daughter?’
‘She’s frightened, still in shock, and in a lot of pain. The doctors are quite pleased because her skin hasn’t blistered. Hopefully Tamsyn will be over the worst in about a week’s time. I wasn’t allowed to see her.’ Tears glistened in her eyes and Neville hugged her close.
‘Was Robert Drayton there?’
‘Yes, apparently he’s been with Loveday most of the time. He got a woman neighbour to stay in his house overnight so Loveday wouldn’t have to go all the way home and come back in again. I brought her some things. The vicar’s with her now. I wish there was something more I could do.’
Neville put a peck on each of her cheeks. ‘You’ve done all you can, darling. You look all in. I suppose you didn’t sleep last night. Come to Aunt Mildred’s for a cup of tea. We can walk around the gardens another day.’
‘Is your Aunt Mildred at home?’
‘No, she’s away in London and her staff have gone with her. The house is empty but I have a key.’
‘Well, that’s honest of you,’ Rebecca said. ‘But you’ve given me no choice but to refuse.’
‘If I was intending to seduce you, Rebecca, I’d ask you to come to my flat. I promise it’ll be strictly tea and sympathy and a chance for you to put your feet up. Aunt Mildred will have left something good in the larder. I’ll make us a tasty meal. Now what do you say?’
‘Well… I must admit I am tired and would welcome a chance to unwind a little. Just for a while then.’
He put her arm through his and they strolled like an attached couple along River Street where Neville greeted some people he knew and proudly introduced Rebecca to them. In Victoria Place he put five florins in a Salvation Army woman’s collecting box and chatted gaily to her before steering Rebecca into Walsingham Place. He took the front-door key to his aunt’s house out of his coat pocket and let them in.
‘You’ll find the curtains open and everything as it usually is. Aunt Mildred can’t bear to think of the house not looking lived in. She employs a man to come and check on it twice a day. I put a note through his door informing him I might be here today.’
‘You were so sure that I’d come?’ Rebecca said, taking off her hat and gloves.
‘I wanted us to go somewhere where we could talk alone. I haven’t seen you alone for ages.’ He suddenly looked unsure of himself ‘If you’d rather we went out, darling, I’d be happy to leave. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.’ Rebecca smiled at him. He held out his arms and she went to him. She wound her arms round his waist and put her head against his chest. ‘I want to stay here and I need you to hold me,
Neville.’
Neville let her keep her head there for a few moments then he lifted her face and kissed her long and gently.
He realised they would not be able to make tea with his aunt’s range not being lit and they went into the drawing room for a glass of sherry. They sat on a plush sofa covered with a watered-silk Chinese design. Rebecca kicked off her shoes and curled her legs up on the soft material. Neville took off his coat and put his arm about her and she rested her head on his neck.
‘What did you make of that fiancé bit that Robert came out with last night?’ Neville asked. ‘I’ve never seen him in such a determined mood before.’
‘I should think after this he’ll ask Loveday to marry him and make it official.’
‘Do you think she’ll accept him? She’s always struck me as rather a staid woman.’
‘There’s one thing I know about Loveday and that is she doesn’t do anything she doesn’t consider proper. If there wasn’t something between her and Mr Drayton she wouldn’t consider it proper to have him with her at the infirmary and she wouldn’t have considered it proper to stay overnight at his house, even with a chaperone. As soon as Tamsyn is better I’m sure there will be an announcement.’
Neville gave a short kindly laugh. ‘I never thought old Robert would get married. Did you ever meet his mother? She was a sweet old dear. I loved eating at her table, it was sheer pleasure.’
‘You’re not a bit like I used to think you were,’ Rebecca said.
‘Oh, and what was that?’
‘Cunning, conniving, probably intolerant of elderly people and quiet people like Mr Drayton.’
Neville gulped down the rest of his sherry. ‘Well, that’s charming,’ he said with a sigh. ‘You’ve hurt my feelings now.’
She looked up at him and his eyes were twinkling. He bent his head and kissed her lips and she responded with the same gentle pressure.
‘I deserved that,’ he said, smiling in a way that made his blue eyes light up. ‘Did you get a rough time from your father last night? I know he has a poor opinion of me.’
Trevallion Page 35