The day was a huge success from beginning to end. Lavinia looked beautiful in her blue dress and matching blue picture hat trimmed with silk roses, and she was so happy that she positively glowed and looked far younger than her years. William looked handsome too and when he saw his bride walking down the aisle towards him on Tom’s arm, little Susan and her twin Becky clutching a posy each and trotting behind, his chest swelled with pride. The Reverend Lockett’s service was touching, and by the time he pronounced them man and wife there was hardly a dry eye in the church. Outside in the sunshine the newlyweds were showered with rice and rose petals before being ushered into the car by George, who then drove them back to Treetops Manor.
‘If only Kitty had been here it would have been just perfect,’ Sunday said sadly as she was driven home in the trap by Tom. It was a sturdy old contraption pulled by their faithful nag, Meg. She at least would be safe when the Army requisitioned their war horses, for she was certainly too old to be of any use in the war.
Unsure how to answer, Tom shrugged. He too still missed Kitty although he rarely mentioned her for fear of Sunday bursting into tears again. ‘She’s young and impressionable and I’ve no doubt she’s having the time of her life in London.’ He reached over to gently squeeze his wife’s hand. ‘I’m sure she’ll be in touch again when the novelty wears off. But come along now; we won’t have sad thoughts today.’
‘No, you’re quite right!’ Sunday stuck her chin in the air and smiled at some of the children who were seated behind them. ‘Let’s go and get this party started!’
That afternoon, the house rang with laughter and thoughts of war were pushed to the back of everyone’s mind. Lavinia and William had eyes only for each other, which Sunday thought was just as it should be. For the first time in her life Lavinia had a man who truly loved her and her daughter was sure she had never looked more radiant.
Mrs Cotton had produced a banquet fit for a king. There were cold joints of beef and pork, pies and sausage rolls, pickles, sandwiches, salads, fresh baked bread and rolls and all manner of treats, and the children took full advantage of it. So much so that one little boy who had overindulged in the quivering jellies and blancmanges had to be whisked away to the lavatory, where he was heartily sick. Mid-afternoon, after they had all eaten, Lavinia seated herself at the piano to play some well-loved tunes and soon everyone was dancing, including Sunday and Tom.
‘Eeh, pet, I’m that glad we’re on good terms again,’ he whispered huskily into her hair.
When she stared up at him, all the love she felt for him was there in her eyes. ‘So am I. I just wish I’d come to my senses sooner. Before you—’
He quickly pressed a finger to her lips. ‘I’ve told you, this is a happy day so we’ll have no more of that sort of talk.’
At tea-time, Lavinia and William disappeared upstairs to get into their going-away outfits and when they came back down they were showered with yet more rice and confetti. The children were enjoying themselves immensely and the house echoed with laughter.
‘Let’s be having you then,’ George said with a broad grin. ‘The car is all ready and waiting for you outside, and if you don’t get a move on you’ll miss your train.’ He hoisted their suitcases and took them outside to stow in the boot while the happy couple said their hasty goodbyes.
Sunday got quite tearful and Lavinia chuckled as she hugged her close. ‘Now then, what’s all this? We’re only going away for a few days. I’ll be back before you know it.’
‘I know,’ Sunday sniffed. ‘But I shall miss you so.’
Lavinia planted a gentle kiss on her forehead, then her groom said, ‘Now then, Mrs Dewhurst,’ took her hand and hurried her out to the car. William could hardly wait to have her all to himself for a few days.
Everyone stood on the steps waving and throwing the last of the rice, and the children howled with laughter as the car rattled off down the drive with all the tin cans they had tied to the bumper jogging along behind them.
‘Crikey, they’ll hear them coming from a mile away,’ Cissie chortled, then linking her arm through Sunday’s they went back into the house. The party was over and now it was time to get the children ready for bed and start the tidying up.
‘Phew, let’s put our feet up an’ have a cuppa for ten minutes before we start on the cleanin’,’ Cissie suggested an hour later as she filled the kettle at the sink and everyone agreed that was a very good idea.
They were still all there when George returned from the railway station ten minutes later.
‘Did they get off all right?’ Sunday asked as she peeped at him over the rim of her cup.
‘They certainly did and will be on their way to Brighton by now, lucky devils.’ He glanced at Cissie then. She’d been looking a little tired and agitated these last few weeks and he wondered if he should ask Sunday whether they could have a few days off for a little break somewhere, just the two of them. They could afford it if he pinched a bit out of their savings, and as their own children had all flown the nest now there was nothing to stop them. He then remembered the letters in his coat pocket and the happy feeling faded away. Much as he hated to do it, he couldn’t withhold Ben and Tom’s mail for any longer.
‘Ah, these came just before we went to church,’ he said with a forced smile. ‘Everyone was in such a dither to be on time that I stuffed them in my pocket and forgot all about them.’
He handed them to the two men and as Sunday saw the envelope over Tom’s shoulder the colour drained from her face.
‘It’s asking me to report for training the week after next,’ he said solemnly.
‘I’m to go at the beginning of next week,’ Ben told them and a silence descended on the kitchen.
It was broken when Tom said in a falsely jovial voice, ‘Well, it stands to reason you’ll need more training than me. I’m only going to be tending the horses and stretcher-bearing. Where have you got to go, Ben?’
‘Warwick.’
‘Oh!’ Tom was quietly disappointed. He had hoped that they might be able to stay together. ‘I’m to report to a training camp in Worcester. Still, I dare say we’ll both get leave when the training’s done before we get shipped out, so we’ll no doubt see each other again after you’ve gone.’
As Sunday stared at the two of them, she saw the deep love that had grown between father and son, and once again she was ashamed at how she had behaved, and she ran to put her arms about them both and gather them to her. Now the nightmare was about to begin.
Chapter Forty-Two
‘What do you mean, they’re closing down some of the theatres and music halls?’ Ruby snapped.
‘Exactly what I say,’ Max answered patiently. ‘And don’t snap at me. It wasn’t my decision.’
Ruby was vexed. And just when Kitty was earning really good money as well, she thought. Still, it wasn’t all doom and gloom. At least Richard would still keep her busy, ‘entertaining’. The girl was in great demand now.
‘I dare say everyone thought that as most of the young men are going to war there won’t be a call for such places now,’ Max said.
‘Hmm.’ Ruby took a long swig of the sweet sherry she had become partial to and Max stared at her disapprovingly. Lately her shapely curves had turned to rolls of fat and she was looking her age. Easy to see why she was no longer in demand. The same was not true for Kitty, of course. The public loved her, simply couldn’t get enough of her, so it was very unfortunate that this should happen now. Oh well. He heaved a sigh. Everyone was saying that the war would be over in no time, so hopefully it would only mean a temporary break in her career.
Max took his leave soon after and Miss Fox entered the room to stare disapprovingly at the glass in Ruby’s hand.
‘I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again! It’s no wonder you’re putting so much weight on, my girl. Drinking at this time of the day and all those chocolates you eat!’
When tears started to Ruby’s eyes the woman’s voice instantly softened. ‘I don’
t mean to be harsh on you,’ she said as she placed the stopper back in the sherry decanter and moved it out of reach. ‘But you really should start to take a little better care of yourself. Get out in the fresh air for a nice brisk walk. Kitty could come with you. You spend nowhere near enough time with her.’
‘Oh, here you go again,’ Ruby said spitefully. ‘Why don’t you just lock her in her room where you can keep a constant eye on her and have done with it? I sometimes think you worry more about her than me,’ she sulked.
‘Now you know that’s not true,’ Miss Fox chided, taking a seat at the side of her. ‘But she’s so young and naïve, I just worry that she could be taken advantage of. It’s so easy for a pretty girl like her to have her head turned, as you know to your cost.’
‘I’m sure Kitty won’t make the same mistakes that I did,’ Ruby said as colour flooded into her cheeks. ‘And it didn’t turn out so badly for me, did it?’
Deciding that enough had been said for now on that subject, Miss Fox withdrew a number of envelopes from the pocket of her skirt. ‘These are all bills that are outstanding,’ she said. ‘Can we afford to pay them?’
‘Of course we can.’ Ruby rudely snatched them and began to glance through them.
‘But how?’ persevered Foxy. ‘How can we pay them?’
‘Kitty earns a very good wage,’ Ruby answered shortly. ‘And I as her mother handle her finances for her. Such a young girl would probably waste it all.’
‘Then surely you could put the money away for her?’ Miss Fox said tentatively. It didn’t seem right to her that Kitty’s money was now paying the lion’s share of running the house as well as keeping Ruby in the manner to which she had become accustomed. ‘We could always look round for a smaller house and do away with some of the staff.’
‘We’ll do no such thing!’ Ruby bristled at the very idea. ‘Kitty is given more than enough for her needs. Have you heard her complaining?’
‘Well no, but—’
‘Then I suggest you leave that side of things to me – and now, if you don’t mind, I can feel a headache coming on. I think I’ll go back to bed for a little lie-down.’
As Ruby heaved herself up from the sofa Miss Fox opened her mouth to protest but then clamped it shut again. She had been about to say that Ruby had only just got up – but it would only cause yet another row and they had been having far too many of them lately. She watched the woman wobble from the room then with a sigh she began to tidy the cushions.
Upstairs, Maggie was also feeling worried. Kitty was in the bath in the adjoining room and when Maggie opened a drawer to put some clean handkerchiefs away, she came across the sponges and the small bottle of vinegar. It was almost half empty again – and Maggie knew that it was time to express her concerns. She had put it off for too long but the way she saw it, Kitty was playing with fire.
When Kitty emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a large fluffy towel she found Maggie sitting on the end of the bed with her hands folded primly in her lap.
‘Oh dear, I know that look. What have I done now?’ she asked.
Without a word Maggie rose and went to the drawer, and when she withdrew the offending articles, colour flamed into Kitty’s cheeks.
‘What do you think you are doing, snooping amongst my private things!’ Jumping up and running over to Maggie, she wrested them from her hand.
‘I wasn’t snooping, I was putting your clean handkerchiefs away,’ Maggie answered reasonably.
Kitty was quivering with humiliation and indignation but suddenly her shoulders sagged and a tear slid down her cheek. ‘It – it’s not what you think,’ she hiccuped as Maggie put an arm about her shoulders.
‘Then perhaps it would help if you talked to me about it,’ she said comfortably.
For a moment, she thought that Kitty might refuse, but the girl could keep it to herself no longer. ‘I … I have to … to entertain certain of Richard’s friends for him.’
‘What?’ It was even worse than Maggie had imagined. ‘You mean you …’
‘Yes.’ Kitty nodded miserably.
‘But why?’ Maggie felt it was completely out of character for Kitty to lower herself to such levels.
‘Because Richard took some photographs of me when I was … Well, I’d had a drink and wasn’t really aware of what was happening and I was – shall we say in a state of undress?’ She shuddered. It sounded even more sordid when she said it out loud. ‘Richard promised me that he only took them for himself to look at, but the men saw them somehow and stole some without Richard knowing – and now, if I don’t do as they ask, they’ll expose them to the public, so I really don’t have a choice, do I?’
‘Richard took photographs of you in a state of undress while you were powerless to stop him?’ Maggie said, her voice incredulous. ‘Did you willingly undress for him?’
‘Well no,’ Kitty admitted, then seeing the look on Maggie’s face she hurried to defend him. ‘But he only undressed me so that he could take the pictures for his eyes only. I’m not sure how the other men got to see them. They must have visited him when he wasn’t expecting them.’
‘Yes – and I just saw a purple pig fly past the window,’ Maggie snorted before she could stop herself.
Kitty instantly pulled away from her. Even now she couldn’t bear to hear a wrong word about Richard.
Maggie looked at her imploringly. ‘Surely you can see that you’re being blackmailed into doing something you don’t want to do,’ she said. ‘And if Richard loves you so much, how can he bear to let other men paw all over you. It just doesn’t add up!’
‘He doesn’t have any choice, like me,’ Kitty muttered. ‘But one day it will all stop and we’ll be married then.’
‘And has he actually asked you to marry him?’
‘Well, not in so many words – but he’s implied that we’ll always be together,’ Kitty answered in a wobbly voice.
‘Oh, Kitty, this has to stop. It can’t go on.’
‘It has to go on for now.’ Kitty dropped onto the stool in front of her dressing table. ‘Richard has promised me that it won’t be for much longer, and then the men will return the photos and that will be an end to it.’
‘But …’ Maggie hardly dared voice her fears. ‘What happens if you fall with child before then?’
‘That’s what they are for – to prevent that happening.’ Kitty nodded towards the sponges. ‘Ruby gave them to me and told me how to use them.’
‘She what!’ Maggie was appalled. ‘But Ruby is your mother! Surely she should be discouraging you from losing your virginity before marriage?’ Not like me, she thought bitterly. Victor Dawes made sure o’ that.
Kitty smiled sadly. ‘Ruby lives a different life to the ones we led,’ she pointed out. ‘She’s far more daring. Why, Sunday and Tom would have murdered me if they thought I’d even contemplated being intimate with a man before I was married. But Ruby lives for pleasure.’
‘Hmm, well, there must be something we can do to stop this going on,’ Maggie muttered. ‘You’re being used and abused against your will – and it isn’t right.’
‘It’s not so bad as you think.’ Kitty laid a gentle hand on Maggie’s arm. ‘I always have a good drink before I have to do it and that takes the edge off anything. Why, sometimes I can’t even remember it afterwards. I sort of block it from my mind.’
Now Maggie understood the half-empty bottles of wine she had found hidden about the room and she shivered with revulsion.
‘Perhaps we should get right away from here,’ she said. ‘Go where nobody knows us. I’m sure we’d be able to find jobs and somewhere to live, especially now there’s a war on. They reckon women will be having to do men’s jobs while the men are away fighting. Or perhaps we should tell Foxy what’s going on? I know she’s been worried about you for a while and she might be able to stop this.’
‘You really don’t understand, do you?’ Kitty said. ‘You mustn’t tell anyone. It would only make things worse – and anyway, I
don’t want to leave. I could never leave Richard. If this is the only way I can be with him, then I’ll put up with it for as long as it takes.’
Maggie stared back, feeling at a complete loss. It appeared that Richard Fitzherbert had bound Kitty with invisible threads, and until the girl could see him for what he really was, there was nothing Maggie could do to help her. The trouble was, by then it could well be too late. Far too late.
Chapter Forty-Three
‘George?’ Cissie gulped to clear her throat. Her husband looked up from the newspaper he was reading in their kitchen. It was a beautiful balmy evening and through the open doorway they could hear the sound of the birds in the trees.
‘Yes, pet, what is it?’ He’d known for a while that something was troubling her, and was relieved that she now seemed ready to speak about whatever it was.
Cissie meanwhile was trying to choose her words carefully, and as she thought of their depleted savings, guilt gnawed away at her like a hungry woodworm.
‘I, err … I was thinking about what you suggested earlier – about us taking a little holiday. I think it’s a lovely idea, but the thing is … I’ve used some of our savings.’
Relief flashed in his eyes. ‘Is that all? Well, you’re entitled to, my lovely. What did you spend it on – a nice new dress or hat?’
‘No, nothing like that.’ Cissie twisted the piece of huckaback she had been drying the dishes with into a knot. ‘The truth is, I helped Hugh out – again.’
George frowned. Since meeting the man, he’d been making enquiries about him in the town and nothing he had learned was good. No one had a kind word to say about him. He was workshy, a drunkard, a bully and a gambler. George, however, had not shared any of this information with Cissie. She clearly adored her son, and after all the years of being apart she was determined to see only the good in him. George secretly doubted that there was any good, but he would not have hurt her for the world so he had kept his own counsel. Now, however, he asked, ‘How much have you helped him out?’
The Little Angel Page 33
