The Jubilee Plot

by David Field

  ‘What?’ Jack pressed her, lines of faint amusement around his mouth.

  ‘Well, it’s just … well, it’s about Esther. I think she may be seeing another man.’

  ‘What?’ Jack spluttered, as tea sprayed down his shirtfront.

  ‘Well, it was last Tuesday, when I decided to take the doctor’s advice and go for a gentle stroll to the crossroads. Except, as Fate would have it, when I got to the crossroads I decided that I felt perfectly fine, and that I’d like to walk a little further, so I decided to call on Esther.’

  ‘And she had a man with her?’ Jack demanded, now on the edge of his seat with a dreadful anticipation.

  ‘No — and in a way, yes,’ Constance continued, confused. She saw the pleading anguish in Jack’s eyes and hastened to clarify her meaning. ‘As I was walking down the lane towards your house, there was a young man ahead of me. Very tall — even taller than you, but with broader shoulders — and from behind he looked very handsome. Then, when he reached your front gate, he was met by Esther, who ran out of your front drive looking very pleased to see him. I got the impression that she’d been expecting him, and she threw her arms around him, and he swung her round and round, with her feet clear of the ground.’

  ‘Then what?’ Jack asked in a doom-laden voice.

  Constance shrugged. ‘I just turned around and walked home. To tell you the truth, I was badly shaken by what I’d seen, and I didn’t want to see any more. I desperately hope that I misread the situation, but I felt that I had to tell you. I hope you’ll forgive me for being the bearer of such grim tidings.’

  ‘Of course I forgive you,’ Mother,’ Jack reassured her as he rose swiftly to his feet, putting his tea cup down heavily on the side table. ‘But whether or not I forgive Esther will depend upon what I discover when I get home. Thank Cook for an excellent dinner and tell her that I may be back for tea.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jack’s mind was whirling with possibilities as he walked slowly down Bunting Lane, less keen on his return home than he had been when alighting from the train. At the entrance to the driveway he paused briefly, recreating in his mind a scene in which Esther threw herself into the arms of another man, who swung her effortlessly round in a circle. Then he looked down towards the house itself, wondering what dark secrets it already held, and whether or not Nell had been sworn to silence. After all, she owed everything to ‘the missus’ who’d plucked her from the uncertainty of her final year in an orphanage into her first domestic post.

  For once he didn’t hurl his hat at the peg on the back of the door as he stepped inside the scullery and listened to the sounds of the house. Lily and Bertie were fighting somewhere as usual, and the faint smell of kindling suggested that Nell was lighting the sitting room fire as a protection against the dank November afternoon. The kitchen door opened without warning, and there stood Esther with a pail full of nappies for soaking. Her arched eyebrows expressed surprise, but not necessarily any great pleasure.

  ‘You’re early,’ was her only comment.

  ‘Is that a problem?’ Jack said tersely.

  Esther managed a weak smile. ‘Of course not, except that I like to know when you’re arriving, because it helps with meals.’

  ‘I had dinner with Mother.’

  ‘Perhaps as well, because we finished an hour ago. A bit delayed as it happens, because Tommy’s still teething, and spat everything back at me.’

  ‘Who was here during the week?’ Jack said bluntly.

  Esther looked back at him quizzically before answering. ‘Me, Nell, your four children — and Billy came over to fix that fence by the railway line before any of the children crawl through it to their deaths. You know — the one you never seem to have had time to fix?’

  ‘Any other men?’ Jack demanded.

  ‘Of course. There’s always a line of suitors at the front door, drawn by the ravishing beauty of a housewife in her mid-thirties boiling nappies.’

  ‘I’m serious,’ Jack insisted in a stern tone. ‘Mother told me that she’d seen you welcoming a man at the front gateway.’

  ‘Very well, since you ask. Yes, there was a man. On Tuesday. I had no idea your mother was spying on me.’

  ‘She wasn’t. She happened to be on her way to call in on you but turned back when she saw what was going on.’

  ‘A pity she didn’t come in, then she might have been better placed to peach on me.’

  ‘Did the man come into the house?’

  ‘Yes, why?’

  ‘The bedroom, by any chance?’

  ‘We were briefly in the bedroom, certainly.’

  ‘I can’t believe that you’re so blatant and blasé about the whole thing!’

  ‘We’ve been married for seven years, Jack Enright, and in all that time I’ve never once given you cause to suspect me of being unfaithful. You clear off every Sunday afternoon, God knows what you get up to in that wicked city, and all you can do by way of recognition of the way I keep house for you, look after your children, and wait patiently for the end of each week is to come trouncing in here and all but accuse me of adultery.’

  ‘The facts speak for themselves,’ Jack insisted, and Esther’s face tightened in mounting anger.

  ‘I’m not one of your criminals! The only “fact” you have is that a man visited the house on Tuesday — on my invitation, I might add — and from that you create some ludicrous accusations that belong in one of those disgusting books that you can buy in cheap and tawdry shops in the East End, where you spend your weeks in the company of thieves and prostitutes!’

  ‘Why did you invite another man into the house?’

  ‘Because he’s my brother, you idiotic pratt!’

  ‘Your brother?’

  ‘Yes, my brother. Abraham Daniel Isaacs — remember him? The one who sent the private investigator to find me; that man you tortured on the front lawn in front of the children? I hope you treat Abe kindlier, although let me warn you that he’s bigger than you. Anyway, he’s coming for Sunday dinner, along with his lady friend.’

  Jack smiled shamefacedly at Esther, as she fought back.

  ‘How could you think that of me? Being separated like this every week is clearly not good for our marriage. Do you imagine that I don’t think things like that about you while you’re back in the city? You forget that I lived there once, too, and I know how those totties operate, with their fake smiles, their loud clothes, their cheap perfume and their gin-soaked kisses. A man alone for a few days is an obvious target, and the East End’s full of them. Every pub, every street corner, every…’

  He cut off the flow of her misery with a kiss, at the end of which he continued to hold her with a hand on either side of her still slim waist and looked deep into her eyes.

  ‘You need never suspect me of anything like that, and I apologise from the bottom of my heart for what I suspected you of. Let’s start again, shall we? “I’m home, darling!”’ he called out to the kitchen door over her shoulder, and she giggled.

  ‘Welcome home. Will you settle for tea and muffins? Nell just made some.’

  An hour, and several muffins, later, they remained at the kitchen table, Miriam leaning against Esther’s knee and Tommy nestling asleep on her chest as Nell responded to the war that was being waged in the sitting room by the remaining Enright siblings.

  ‘So Abe wrote and asked to come and see you?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Yes. It was so wonderful to see him again, after all these years. He fell in love with Lily on the spot, and he kept Bertie amused by showing him how to arrange his toy soldiers in proper battle order. Miriam chuckled every time he tickled her under the chin, and Tommy slept through most of it.’

  ‘It’s a pity that Mother misread the situation, but don’t be angry with her,’ Jack requested. ‘She was only acting in what she regarded as my best interests, and you’ll get your own back by not going to Sunday dinner with her. You did say that Abe was calling round then, didn’t you? And with his lady friend?’<
br />
  ‘That’s right,’ Esther confirmed. ‘They’ve known each other since they met out in Egypt, apparently, and I think, from what he said, that they’re quite serious about each other. I got the impression that they’re living together as man and wife, even though they’re not married, but we don’t mind, do we?’

  ‘Of course not. It’ll be good to have another side to the family. Is Abe still in the army?’

  Esther frowned slightly. ‘He was a bit vague on that when I asked him how long he was home on leave for, but no doubt we can ask him all about that on Sunday.’

  The remainder of Friday, and the whole of Saturday, passed off quietly as if there’d been no misunderstanding. Jack played with the children until their bedtime on the Friday evening, then for the whole of Saturday morning, before strolling down to his mother’s house for a frugal dinner, during which he was at pains to explain to her that the man she had seen had been Esther’s brother, and that since he was visiting them for Sunday dinner, the family would not be down for Sunday dinner at her house the following day, as was the long-established custom. Constance advised him rather coolly that she quite understood their priorities, and that she’d be able to enjoy a peaceful Sunday dinner on her own for once, since Lucy and her family were on holiday, and Aunt Beattie had written a polite letter offering her own apologies, and those of husband Percy, for missing the weekly ritual.

  As the morning drifted towards noon, and with the lamb safely installed inside the oven while Nell peeled potatoes and carrots, Esther seemed to spend more and more of her time in the sitting room, notionally peace-keeping between Lily and Bertie, but in reality glancing out through the window towards the driveway. Finally she scuttled into the kitchen, where Jack was reading Friday’s newspaper in the middle of Nell’s attempts to set the table and advised him excitedly, ‘They’re here! Do come to the front door and help me welcome them.’

  Jack stood behind Esther as she pulled open the front door to the sight of a giant of a man, with closely tonsured black hair that was greying at the temples, standing on the top step in the act of reaching for the door knocker.

  ‘Abe!’ Esther gushed enthusiastically, ‘it’s so good that you could come! Come in and meet my husband Jack.’

  The two men shook hands, and for Jack it was a rare event to be looking up into the eyes of another man. He was struck by how like Esther Abe was in his general features, and he was still absorbing this information when Abe turned back towards the woman who had sidled in through the front door behind him.

  ‘This is the lady I told you about, Esther. Say hello to Mary. Mary, this is my sister Esther and her husband Jack.’

  The lady in question appeared from behind Abe’s shoulder, and Jack froze. It was the singer from the Home Front Club.

  Their eyes met, and although her beautiful smile was one of serene sociability, her blue eyes dilated in uncontrollable surprise as she shook Jack’s hand through her silk glove.

  It was a very uncomfortable meal for Jack, but fortunately for his presence of mind it was Esther and Abe who did most of the talking, catching up on lost years.

  ‘So where, when and how did you and Mary first meet?’ Esther asked.

  ‘In Cairo, earlier this year,’ Abe answered. ‘My battalion was on “stand-down”, and we were encouraged to socialise with other battalions and their wives. I was introduced to Mary by my subaltern, and we danced all evening, because her normal dance partner was back on the front line.’

  ‘Abraham’s being tactful,’ Mary advised them quietly, ‘but you may as well know the truth from the very beginning of what I hope will be a lengthy acquaintance. The partner to whom Abraham was referring was my husband, and when your brother and I couldn’t prevent our feelings for each other spilling over into … well, into something more physical, we ran away together and came to London.’

  ‘What was the reaction from your battalion commander?’ Jack enquired tactlessly. ‘He’s not likely to have given his blessing to your home leave in the circumstances, I wouldn’t have thought.’

  It fell silent again, and Abe’s eyes dropped to the remains of the main course in front of him as he all but whispered, ‘We never sought that blessing. I’m afraid you’re having dinner with a deserter.’

  It was Esther who recovered first from the shock, and she smiled unconvincingly as she tried to make light of what they’d just been told. ‘At least you won’t be risking your neck out there on the battlefield. You’re the only brother I’ve got.’

  Abe looked solemnly across at Jack. ‘Esther tells me that you’re a police officer, Jack. I hope you won’t be running me in. They shoot deserters.’

  ‘Why would I peach on someone who follows his own convictions?’ Jack replied with a smile. ‘Whether convictions of the heart, or convictions regarding the best way in which the laws of this nation should be applied, it’s all the same. You take a stand on what you believe in.’

  ‘And what exactly do you believe in, Jack?’ Mary asked.

  Jack gave her what he hoped looked like a cautious smile. ‘A nation in which free men are allowed every opportunity to realise their true vocation, to strive for their dreams, and to do so without oppression from those less worthy of preference.’

  ‘You almost sound like one of those Marxist types,’ Mary prodded him.

  Jack shook his head. ‘All that philosophy stuff’s over my head, I’m afraid. Let’s just say that I’m all for equality of opportunity, without some being held back by poverty while others are promoted by wealth that they haven’t actually earned for themselves.’

  ‘That’s what Marx actually meant,’ Mary smiled triumphantly, and Abe coughed politely.

  ‘I’m afraid Mary had too much time on her hands while sitting in married quarters waiting for her husband to come back alive. She took to reading quite the wrong sort of literature.’

  ‘Anyone for apple pie?’ Esther offered in an eager attempt to break the embarrassing silence. ‘Nell made it, and she’s an excellent pastry cook.’

  ‘As I can attest,’ Jack smiled back warmly at Mary in an effort to convey the impression that she’d discovered a fellow believer who normally had to keep his opinions to himself.

  As the lengthening shadows began to steal the natural daylight from the sitting room in which they sat drinking tea, they were reminded that darkness fell early a month before Christmas, and while Abe continued to demonstrate to Bertie that he’d foolishly left the right flank of his advancing force of tin soldiers exposed to enemy cannon fire, and Mary sat singing a silly children’s song to an entranced Lily, Jack packed his bag for the week, then came reluctantly back into the room and announced that he would have to be leaving soon. Abe and Mary offered to share the journey with him, since from Fenchurch Street they would need to take a bus to their accommodation in Aldgate, and by the time that they did so it would be dark. There were hugs and kisses all round, then the three of them walked down Bunting Lane together, after a final wave to Esther, who stood in the glow from the lamp that she’d lit in the sitting room.

  The train had barely pulled away from Barking Station when Mary smiled knowingly across at Jack from the opposite seat in which she sat holding Abe’s hand.

  ‘I trust that you enjoyed my singing, Jack.’

  Not sure if this was an acknowledgment that she had indeed recognised him, he hedged his answer.

  ‘Very much, and I could see that Lily did too.’

  ‘I meant the songs I sang in the Club. That was you up at the bar with Liam Brennan, wasn’t it?’

  Jack did his best to look shocked, but Mary was having none of that.

  ‘You’re among friends now, Jack, so don’t be evasive. You weren’t there just for the musical evening, were you?’

  Jack glanced across at Abe, who smiled encouragingly.

  ‘We gather from what you said earlier this afternoon that you’d like to see some changes in the way that this nation of ours is governed.’

  ‘Who wouldn’t?
’ Jack replied in an attempt to sound reluctant and guarded.

  ‘Have you become a member of the Club yet?’ Mary asked.

  Jack shook his head.

  ‘Would you like to?’ was her next question. ‘I know the right people to ask.’

  ‘Are you a member?’ Jack asked Abe, who shook his head with a wry smile.

  ‘In my situation, Jack, it’s best just to keep your head down.’

  ‘Which regiment were you in?’

  ‘The Grenadier Guards,’ Abe replied. ‘First Battalion, proud Englishmen, but with the usual spattering of Welsh and Irish.’

  ‘There’s talk of creating a separate Irish Guard regiment out of those of my fellow countrymen who fought in my husband’s battalion,’ Mary added.

  ‘You’re Irish yourself, aren’t you?’ Jack smiled. ‘I remember the songs you sang at the Club.’

  ‘All the way from County Meath, where the kings of Ireland had their throne before the English moved in,’ Mary replied. ‘I was born just north of Dublin, in a place called Dunboyne, which was where Colonel Blood came from. He very nearly stole your Crown Jewels, but he was so highly regarded by King Charles that he spared his life, even though Blood had originally intended to assassinate him. There’s a song about him that I sometimes sing at the Club; here’s the last two lines for you.’ She tilted back her head and opened her mouth with a smile as she sang,

  ‘Since loyalty does no man good,

  Let’s steal the king and outdo Blood.’

  ‘That’s enough, Mary!’ Abe admonished her. ‘I don’t wish my new brother-in-law to think of us as revolutionaries. I didn’t fight for Queen and country to hear that sort of Fenian rubbish from the woman I deserted for!’

  Too late, my friend, Jack concluded.

  ‘Let’s not jump to too many conclusions,’ Percy warned Jack later that evening, as they sat in front of the fire doing their best to digest the fish pie that Beattie had cooked for Sunday tea. She was now sulking in the kitchen, after Percy had asked whether the fish that had gone into it had surrendered due to old age.