The Secrets of Tenley House

by Patricia Dixon

  The rain pounded on the attic window and the drip of water as it splashed into the bucket under the leaky ceiling prevented any rest. Turning on her side, Georgie noticed tears streaming down Kenneth’s cheeks and she knew that his complicated soul needed more than kind words. Perhaps a diversion was required. Or some form of kinship, a deeper understanding of what made people tick to prove to him that everyone had flaws, which is why Georgie laid herself bare and told him her secrets, exposed her life of crime and admitted to being a fake and a reject.

  “Shall I tell you my secret, Kenneth? It might make you run for the hills or the night train from Paddington, but I have grown so very fond of you and I cannot bear you feeling this way. You see, we are very alike you and I, so very similar.”

  Kenneth wiped his eyes and cheeks before turning on his side to face Georgie and once they were eye to eye, she told him her truth.

  “My parents aren’t dead, they are alive and well and living in Oxfordshire, as are most of my family including my grandparents on both sides. One set I absolutely adore, the other I detest. You see they used me as their puppet, to wipe away the stain of shame when my father impregnated someone they deemed sub-standard. I was their golden child and while they treated my mother, who I shall come to later, with disdain, and looked down on my lovely maternal grandparents, I could do no wrong. And then, just like that,” Georgie clicked her fingers, “I ruined it all when I was caught with my knickers down and subsequently, they banished me to London. I was discarded like a bag of rubbish. Since then I have invented a life for myself, one where I can be who I want to be, whenever I choose.”

  Kenneth’s eyes widened. “But you told me they were…”

  “Dead? Yes I did because to me they are. Like I said, I live in a fantasy world and most days I act my way through it, depending on how I feel, doing whatever it takes to get through the day. Because believe me, Kenneth, living up here and serving posh bitches all day long isn’t exactly my idea of fun. But I get by and I’m free, which is all that matters.”

  Silence enveloped them for a moment until Kenneth spoke, his voice held a hint of awe.

  “I must say that was all rather surprising but thank you for being honest, Georgie, and for the record I really don’t care one bit. I love you just the way you are, I really do.” Instead of being abashed by his bold statement, Kenneth felt his heart flood with happiness as he realised it was true.

  “Do you really love me, Kenneth? Because I truly adore you, in fact I love you too, very much, you funny old thing.” Georgie smiled and heard Kenneth laugh.

  “But there’s more… and because tonight is one for honesty I’m going to tell you how naughty I am and then, if you want to fall right back out of love with me you can.”

  “Nothing you can say will change my mind so go ahead, do your worst.” Kenneth stared, his gaze unwavering, his determination not to be shocked by his wonderful friend and her confessions set in stone.

  Pulling the blanket over her shoulders and then lighting a cigarette, Georgie inhaled deeply, forcing the nicotine through her veins, its poison bringing out the devil in her, the one that was setting Kenneth his final challenge. If he ran then she would know he was not her true friend, if he stayed she would love him forever.

  Georgie told him she was a thief and why, her story aided by whichever accent gilded the lily best. He listened in stunned silence as she described how she’d bribed the father of her best friend after their tumble in his king-size bed, with photographs taken on the Polaroid camera he and his wife had given to her as a 16th birthday gift. She’d seduced the groom and her tennis coach. Both had been a challenge and a bet between her school friends, one she won hands down. Georgie admitted she never did anything for nothing which was why she encouraged the infatuation of her French teacher. Georgie was terrible at languages but could do a rather good Parisian accent, time well spent in the book cupboard while he whispered sweet nothings in her ear and delved into her knickers. To that day, Georgie remained adamant she’d earned the A+ in her end of year report.

  Flinging off the blanket, Georgie stood and paced the room. Kenneth could see the tension in her neck, the stiffness in her back, the veiled temper as she dragged on her cigarette. He wanted her to stop, it was doing her no good, he could see that but she waved off his suggestion and ploughed on, determined, in full flow.

  For a while, Georgie had turned a blind eye to her father’s rather obvious affair with a bank employee because it served her mother right for being a cold fish. Keeping it in his pants had always been Daddy’s downfall, as was failing to forbid her banishment. Georgie’s Polaroid camera came in handy again, as did the photos she’d taken after laying in wait on the track behind the old forge, Daddy’s favourite place for a Sunday afternoon fumble with Sylvia. Instead of exposing her father to those being cheated on, Georgie sent the photographs to her dear grandmother, letting her deal with her randy disappointing son.

  And finally, she told Kenneth all about the married man she was having an affair with, who had come into Whiteley’s for a Christmas gift and left with her phone number. She met him every Wednesday at a hotel on The Strand for an afternoon of sex and champagne, no strings attached.

  “So, there you have it. Georgie in a nutshell. Now, do you still adore me? I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, there’s really not much to like, is there?” Maybe she’d had too much gin because reliving the past was always a painful mistake, it hurt like hell and was the reason she blocked it out, them out. But as her words caught in her throat and tears leaked from her eyes, Georgie prayed that Kenneth would stay because out of all of it, her fake London life and grimy past, he was real, precious, shiny and new.

  When Kenneth saw Georgie slump onto the mattress, tears rolling down her face he sprang into action and was by her side in an instant, holding her while she sobbed, telling her over and over again that he didn’t care and he still adored her, every single bit of her. When she finally stopped, hiccupping as she wiped her eyes, Kenneth asked her two questions and although he was quite nervous about the answers, knew they were of the greatest importance.

  “Georgie, may I ask you something? Even though you have bared your soul, I am still curious and a little confused as to why, when you had the attention of many that you sought out such unorthodox and rather risqué liaisons, but most of all, why be friends with me? I have to say that this perplexes me the most. You have such a wonderful array of companions surely I am surplus to requirements.” Kenneth could feel his cheeks burning and his heart hammered in his chest, unprepared for whatever Georgie would say next.

  When Georgie turned to look at him and saw the pools of fear in his eyes her own heart hurt for the pain she may have caused him. Oh how she had wanted to leave him in ignorance of her sins and nature, but he was the one pure thing in her life and she had needed to test him, it had to be done.

  “Oh my darling, Kenneth, please don’t ever doubt my feelings for you, not for one second. Don’t you see, from the moment you came into my life it shifted. I stopped thinking of myself and for the first time wanted to make someone else happy. You know I fancied you rotten when we met but I was barking up the wrong tree. It’s happened before but this time I just wanted to keep holding your hand.” Georgie smiled when Kenneth laughed at her mistake. “After we chatted and I got to know you more, I saw a lost soul who was so desperately sad and I couldn’t bear to let you go.” Georgie brushed Kenneth’s hair from his eyes; sometimes he really did look so vulnerable so she tried to reassure him.

  “Where you are concerned, dearest Kenneth, my heart is pure and true but everything else is an act and I am so tired because it makes me weary. Sometimes I forget who I am and am in grave danger of losing sight of Georgie, the person in here.” Georgie touched her heart then took Kenneth’s hand.

  “When I am with you I relax, you calm me. Do you know that my favourite thing of all is when we are alone, doing anything or nothing at all? Like eating chestnuts from the bag, or walki
ng in the park while you tell me stories of ancient Egypt, or how bees reproduce in the wild. Fancy that. Silly Georgie doing normal things.”

  Georgie winked and nudged Kenneth who looked brighter, less worried. “But don’t get me wrong, I still love to dress up and go out on the town and yes, our friends are fun. Laurie is a cad and totally sweet, and I wouldn’t have survived this far without him, but that’s not going to be forever. He’ll be off to America soon and I’ll be left in Whiteley’s. In fact I had almost forgotten what real is, apart from when I’m with you and dear sweet Dolly downstairs.” Georgie held Kenneth’s hand tightly and waited for him to speak, knowing he was full to the brim with questions.

  “I understand all that, and I really don’t care about any of the things you told me in the past although I am still curious as to why you behaved like a little monster. And don’t look at me that way, you know it’s true.” It was Kenneth’s turn to tease although he still needed answers and when Georgie sighed in a rather dramatic and exasperated way, he wasn’t that surprised by the answer.

  “Because I could and I liked it. They gave me the tools and training, good genes and opportunity so I took it. There, it’s as simple as that. I have these uncontrollable moments when I get the urge to be wild, take off my shoes and dance on tables, drink whisky and swim naked in a lake. And I want to have sex, lots of it but nothing deep and meaningful, so I choose the most unsuitable men. I’m actually not too fussy but I’m not a snob or a gold digger either. Money means nothing because it just buys you things, even people, and it can make you a slave.”

  Georgie had to stop and catch her breath because it had all come out in such a rush, a torrent of truth but it felt marvellous, like she was almost clean.

  “Goodness, well… I did ask. But I do think you should stay away from the married men, Georgie. The last thing you want is to be sued in the divorce courts and what if there are children in the family, perhaps some caution might be called for in future, choose a little more wisely.” Kenneth raised his eyebrows and tried to look stern.

  Seeing Kenneth’s expression made Georgie smile. He had reverted back to type and was no longer a lost little boy but her knight, and she liked that, having someone to look out for her.

  “Alright, I’ll try. But I swear I’m not evil or cruel. I can be kind and loving and I know I should stop and think about morality and wedding vows but I don’t, but I will, if it would make you feel better about me.”

  “I think it will make you feel better about yourself and that is far more important. I accept you just as you are, I promise I do.” Kenneth placed his arm around her shoulders then kissed the top of her head, both were smiling, content and perfectly in tune.

  In fact Kenneth proved exactly how much he accepted Georgie because the following day he suggested she moved into the Kensington House and brought Dolly along too. The place was huge and had a very cosy nanny flat at the back, overlooking a small garden that Dolly could enjoy in the warmer months. He gave Georgie a cheque so she could spruce the place up and drag it into the present century and although he missed her dreadfully when he was at Tenley, felt comforted that she and his more homely abode would be waiting when he returned.

  In the meantime, Georgie was free to do as she wished and with whom, and during his trips to London if Kenneth found a gentleman to spend the night with, and there were plenty to choose from amongst their circle, they had each other’s blessing. They were young and free and for almost a year lived life as they wished, until it all came crashing down.

  A fervent inquisition by his mother had sent Kenneth scurrying back to London, quite panic stricken that their love nest was about to be ripped apart by The Cuckoo who had heard rumours and was threatening an intervention, a royal visit at the very least.

  While Kenneth related the tale, Georgie seemed far more engrossed admiring the lovely maxi dress she’d picked up earlier, only succumbing to his pleas that she took the situation seriously when he stormed off and took refuge in his room. Lighting a cigarette, Georgie followed and sat on the end of his bed, lounging against the bedpost as she observed him. He was deep in thought and staring on to the street below, arms crossed while his right hand covered his mouth, like he was holding in a scream. Not in fear; temper and frustration more like.

  “Darling, come and sit by me.” Georgie patted the bed but Kenneth remained by the window.

  His resistance caused her to smile. She liked it when he was manly so allowed him his stubborn moment. After all, she had no clue of what to say or do so when Kenneth finally turned and began pacing, his hands placed in his pockets, forehead furrowed in concentration Georgie remained silent and let him think. He stopped mid-pace, inhaling deeply, savouring the second-hand smoke and Georgie’s uncharacteristic silence. It had allowed him to work things out in his head, all alone, and his next words were a shock to them both.

  “Do you know something? I’ll be damned if that woman is allowed to ruin what we have. I have lived under her thumb for too long and it is time I stood up to her.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, darling.”

  Kenneth frowned. “Please don’t interrupt, Georgie.”

  “Sorry, dearest, do continue.” Georgie chuckled at Kenneth’s frown.

  “I have you to thank for giving me both courage and a new life therefore I want you to be part of it, always. Mother can go to hell for all I care.”

  “Hear, hear.” Georgie raised her hands as if to apologise for the interruption then smiled sweetly before Kenneth continued.

  “I will not bow to her demands ever again and if she doesn’t approve of you I really don’t care, not a jot. How wonderful and downright liberating is that?” And as if to prove his point, Kenneth threw his head back and laughed loudly, causing Georgie to start.

  “I must say I like this new determination but what exactly had you in mind? Are you going to present me at court as your muse… I’m sure Phyllis will have me hung drawn and quartered by dawn.” Georgie wasn’t convinced but had allowed Kenneth his moment in the spotlight, quite confident that by evening he would return to his senses.

  “Oh my darling, I have a much better idea than that, not having you chopped up. I mean about Mother.”

  Georgie clapped her hands excitedly. “Are we going to chop your mother up?” On hearing Kenneth sigh she curbed her sarcasm and tried to be serious. “Go on then, spit it out, I’m all ears.”

  Kenneth came over to the bed, his long legs made it in two strides and before she knew it, he was on one knee, holding her hand in his. A clearing of the throat preceded his unrehearsed speech.

  “Dearest Georgie, would you do me the immense honour of becoming my wife and remaining by my side through thick and thin, loving life and having as much fun as we can jam into it, so long as we both shall live?” Kenneth had never been so sure of anything in his whole life and gripped Georgie’s hand, willing her to say yes.

  In the ensuing silence, as Georgie held her cigarette in the air, astounded by Kenneth’s proposal, in that moment she felt such utter love and deep admiration for the soppy looking chap on bended knee in front of her, there could only be one answer.

  Pulling his hand upwards towards her lips, she kissed it gently, smiled and said yes. Of course she would marry him. It would be a pleasure.

  Sandy

  Sandy shrugged on her jacket and picked up her handbag before heading for the back door of the retirement home where she worked. Her shift was over and as she stepped into the spring sunshine, inhaled deeply, sucking in the air, cleansing her body of the odour of death that prevailed inside the council-run facility. For most of the residents it was the final stage of their journey through life and Sandy’s job as housekeeper was to ensure they had clean sheets on which to depart the herein. Whether they had an efficient household in the hereafter was for them to discover.

  It was Sunday and owing to her six–two shift, Sandy had missed morning service at church but would be there for evensong. She actually preferred this
as sometimes she struggled in the mornings, but that was her business, hers and the Lord’s. He forgave Sandy anything, she knew that now.

  After months of worry and scouring the newspapers for information and keeping her ears open for any hint of gossip, the perpetual feeling of fear that had gripped her heart since that morning by the swimming pool had vanished. It had been eased away by the love of God who saw everything. The Almighty would have known it was an accident and for that reason he had seen to it all, made things right and shown her the way once again.

  Sandy’s unexpected return to the church had occurred one week before New Year’s Eve, 1965, when in a fit of despair, she had given God just one more chance to redeem himself, show her the way and prove he hadn’t forsaken her. Sandy’s epiphany was timely and took place after she carelessly knocked over her bottle of gin, the contents soaking into the rug, dissolving the pills she was about to consume.

  On wet and bended knees, she had sobbed and begged God over and over for a sign, to reach out his hand and smile kindly, just like he did in the books she’d read in Sunday school. As she wiped her eyes and gulped back the last dregs of gin from her glass and bottle, Sandy staggered over to her bed and threw herself onto the mattress. Pulling the blankets over her body, she was grateful at least for the oblivion the alcohol afforded her, free from the dreaded nightmares.

  As Sandy slept, she was unaware that God had in fact been listening and within days her prayers would be answered. Perhaps he’d been there all along, invisible footsteps in the sand, or along carpeted corridors and as she waited in turn at the off-licence, walking by her side, guiding her along a path since the day she left home, one which would lead to her daughter.