by Maggie Ford
‘Restless. I think I might need to get in a bit more sleep.’
‘I expect you miss my company beside you. Perhaps I will join you tonight. I shall be glad not to sleep on the sofa any more.’
Emma bit her lip to prevent herself saying she didn’t want him in her bed … his bed.
‘Perhaps leave it a few more days,’ she said instead.
‘No, my dearest.’ He was all concern for her. ‘I shall stay with you tonight. You will feel much safer and sleep far better. But I will let you rest now. I have to go out for a while. I shall come in later to see how you are. You might be feeling somewhat stronger by then, my dear.’
Five minutes after he’d left, she heard Martin’s voice at the door and her heart leaped. She hadn’t heard his knock. Mrs Hart, having got breakfast for her employer, had been on the point of leaving to get her own husband’s meal. Now Martin’s voice in the hallway came like a hospital whisper. ‘It’s all right, Mrs Hart, I know Mr Barrington is out. I’ll keep an eye on her.’
‘Oh, I’m glad, Mr Page,’ came the woman’s voice. ‘I don’t like leaving her on her own, though she said it’s all right. But I do have to see about me own family. You know.’
‘Of course,’ came the soft reply. ‘You trot along then.’
‘I’ll be back about eleven to do lunch.’
‘Fine.’
The voices faded. Emma heard the door click, then came Martin’s tap on her door. ‘Emily – can I come in?’
She sat up with an effort. She’d not seen him since Theo brought her home that night. He had obviously been told very little. Theo wasn’t going to reveal the truth. Now as he crept into her room at her bidding, Martin looked anxiously into her face.
‘I’ve been so worried for you,’ he whispered.
He leaned down to kiss her lips but for some reason that she couldn’t understand, she turned her face away, at the same time shattered by her own unexpected reaction.
He straightened up and she could hear the perplexity in his voice. ‘Theo said you had a fall. He said it wasn’t that bad, but he wouldn’t let me see you.’
He was talking so formally, like a stranger. She had hurt him, turning her face away like that. Emma felt tears begin to gather. She needed so much to have his shoulder to cry on, to be held in his arms and be released from this lonely prison she was in. Why, when she loved him as she did, had some strange fear clouded what should have been her natural response? Was it that she dared not tell him the reason behind her accident, certain that if he knew she had initially consented to what had been done to her, even though she’d attempted to back out, it would send him from her in horror? She couldn’t have borne that, and this sense of complete helplessness was overwhelming.
She wanted to reach up and pull him to her as he now bent to kiss her lightly on the forehead. Tears of desperation had begun to course down her cheeks. Seeing them, he drew back a little, his expression full of concern and a need to comfort.
‘Darling, what is it? You look so washed out. Theo keeps saying you’ve also had a chill. Why hasn’t he had a doctor to come and see you, with that fall and all?’
‘I didn’t need a doctor.’ She was trying not to break down. ‘I wasn’t really hurt, just shaken. I’m over it now. Martin, I love you so much. I just couldn’t bear to drive you away from me.’
He was looking bewildered. ‘Why do you say that? Nothing’s going to drive me away from you, certainly not the fact of you being ill. It brings me closer to you, in fact.’
He was being so loving, so tender, so concerned that she could no longer hold back her feelings.
‘I hate him!’ she burst out. ‘I hate him for what he’s done to me – for making me greedy enough to do anything he says – for making me hate myself!’ Tears were flowing unchecked down her cheek. ‘I loathe him with all my soul and I don’t know what to do.’
Martin gathered her up in his arms. ‘My sweetest, what’s been going on? What’s he done to you?’
‘I can’t say,’ she sobbed. ‘All I know is I just want you here to hold me.’
She knew she mustn’t say more. Theo would keep quiet about what had gone on. Yet Martin would always wonder. If ever he found out, either he’d be so appalled that his love for her would dissolve, or he would take it into his head to seek out Theo and thrash the daylights out of him. The outcome of that was numbing – Theo would have him for assault, he’d be prosecuted, sent to prison. Could she stand up for him and bring herself to say what she’d allowed to be done to her?
She knew she would – for Martin’s sake, but it wouldn’t save him and she’d be left to face the world alone, because Theo would have no more to do with her either. He was capable of it even while professing to love her. She knew him by now as a man who wouldn’t flinch to exact his pound of flesh for any slight to himself.
She recalled being told of the drunk who’d gone for him with a knife in an alley after he’d been shown up in front of a music hall audience. Theo had seen to it that his assailant had been committed to a lunatic asylum, and no doubt was there still while Theo himself had forgotten the incident. His scar hidden by an impressive, well-trimmed beard, he had climbed to heights far greater than before with no thought of the one whose brief drunken act was still regarded as that of a madman, locked away for ever.
And what of Martin? Could Theo also make him out to be insane? A brief spell in prison for assault was an alarming prospect, but to be locked away in a madhouse for ever? It didn’t bear thinking about, and she’d be consumed by guilt for the rest of her days at having been instrumental in doing this to him. Life without Martin would be the worst punishment she could imagine. And could Theo force her to marry him? At this moment, fantastic though it seemed, he could quite easily do that.
‘I’m sure he suspects something, Martin,’ she said. ‘That’s why he hasn’t let you come near me. You know how jealous he can be.’
‘He can’t suspect. We’ve been careful.’
Tm sure he knows more than we think.’ A sudden premonition took hold, and she broke away from him.
‘Darling, you mustn’t be found here with me. You shouldn’t even be in the flat. But I feel a lot better for seeing you. It’s all I wanted. I shall get up tomorrow, but now hurry up and go, my love.’
He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers, seeming to sense that anything more would cause her to recoil. He seemed to understand her better than she did herself, and she loved him for that.
‘We’ll sort this out in time,’ he said gently. ‘But you can’t marry him.’
‘I know. But I’m scared of what could happen when I tell him about us. One day he’ll have to know.’
‘He doesn’t scare me. I’ll face him. He can’t make you marry him.’
But she knew he could – what had happened albeit without her consent or knowledge, but which couldn’t be proved as such, could be held against her. Theo would be well aware that she wouldn’t want Martin to know about it and he could very well blackmail her into marriage. Either way she would lose Martin. Coming from Theo it would sound vile. He could make it seem as if it had been all her doing, and that he’d tried to stop her, that he was devastated at what she’d done – all sorts of things, making it so convincing that he could turn Martin’s mind round completely.
Emma went cold at the thought of what Theo could achieve. ‘He can be devious,’ was all she could say, but saw Martin’s loving smile.
‘Don’t fret, my love,’ he said confidently. ‘I shall straighten him out.’
Emma clutched at his arm. ‘No! Let me do it. I need to bide my time. Please, Martin, don’t say anything to him just yet. Promise me!’ He looked a little mystified, but nodded.
‘Now go!’ she urged, pushing him from her. ‘Go on, darling, before he comes back and finds you here.’
Martin nodded reluctantly and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. ‘I love you, Emily,’ he said simply, and left her.
Theo reached the top of the flight of stairs to his s
econd-floor apartment in time to hear the door to Martin’s rooms click shut.
Theo stopped abruptly before going on more slowly to the now closed door, where he again came to a halt, and surveyed it as though looking for it to talk to him.
Why should Martin have been going into his apartment at that precise moment? The door was speaking to him as surely as if it had a voice. It was saying to him that if its owner had gone out of this building on business and had only just returned, he, Theo, would have seen him enter, being only just behind him. But there had been no sign of Martin. So where had he been, he asked the door, and the door said, ‘He has been in your apartment, knowing you were out.’
He had indeed mentioned to Martin that he was going out. ‘You are a fool,’ said the door, ‘to tell him how long you’d be out. He timed Mrs Hart’s leaving so as to get into your apartments and see Amelia. He didn’t reckon on you returning so soon and he must have seen your vehicle draw up and made a bolt for his rooms.’
‘That has to be the answer,’ Theo muttered to himself. Coming to a decision, he knocked on the door, now eager to see what reaction he would get from Martin.
It was opened after quite a pause. A sign of apprehension, he thought with perverse satisfaction. A glance at the dark brown eyes revealed them to be wider than they should be, with a feigned look of complete innocence. He smiled to himself – he wasn’t a professional reader of minds for nothing, and it was not entirely all trickery – he knew people. It was what had made him the magician he’d become. Innocence, guilt, honesty, mendacity, it was there in the eyes. And this man was being devious.
He could be devious too. ‘Ah, Martin,’ he began, making his tone jovial. ‘I shall have need of you before lunch. Things I want to go over with you.’ That was true. ‘Just a few small things.’ True again.
Relief showed in the young man’s eyes, and he went on, ‘As Amelia will not be well enough for a day or two yet, the act needs to be modified, not too much. Have you seen her?’
The question was shot out of the blue, and yes, there was a startled look, veiled and vanishing in seconds but there all the same.
‘You said she hasn’t been out of her room,’ countered his victim, and again Theo smiled inwardly – an astute evasion.
‘Well, if you’re not doing anything particular at this moment,’ he went on, ‘I’ll go over those details with you now, then we can start properly after lunch.’
Already he was retreating almost imperceptibly towards his own door, one shoulder tilted just a fraction in that direction, compelling the man to make a decision – the one he sought from him. Almost hypnotism. ‘Perhaps you’d like to come in?’
Martin hesitated. Fear – the villain reluctant to revisit the scene of his crime. Theo laid a hand on Martin’s shoulder. ‘Good man,’ he said giving no more opportunity for a change of mind. But Martin was in his pay. He couldn’t protest.
With Martin following, he let himself into his apartment and with leisurely care laid his homburg on the hall table, placed his damp brolly into the umbrella stand, and with equal slowness took off his chesterfield and hung it neatly on the hall stand. He kept his back to Martin, but his ears were alert for the inflections he sought in the man’s tones. ‘So you haven’t seen her at all?’ he queried casually. ‘You don’t know how she is?’
He heard the hardly perceptible intake of breath. ‘I’m, sorry, Theo, I don’t,’ Martin said.
‘But you are concerned for her?’
‘Of course, but not unduly so. You said she’ll be better in a day or two.’
‘And what does she say about it?’ Theo turned sharply to look at him. He saw a blank stare and read into it what he wanted to. ‘What did she say, Martin?’ he repeated. ‘When you visited her?’
Strange that he should be enjoying this when what he was mostly feeling was anger and a sense of betrayal. It was all starting up again. He should have known he could never trust Martin. He saw his adversary’s lips tighten but gave him no chance to construct another lie.
‘If you were not unduly concerned, why did you not ask to see her – why wait until I was out?’
He could see the hostility creeping into Martin’s face. ‘Because you made it plain you had no intention of letting me see her.’
Theo refused to allow emotion to show on his face. How many other times while he’d been out had she and Martin been together, Martin creeping from his rooms to come in here? Had she tried to push him away, not daring to tell anyone, or was she happy to accept him? She was being very cold towards Theo himself but he’d put it down to her condition. Not cold towards Martin, it seemed. The child she’d been carrying, was it Martin’s? That was taking matters too far. Had it been Martin’s, would she have been so pliant about getting rid of it? If he faced her with all this, might she not up and run off with Martin? The idea wasn’t impossible but it was unthinkable.
Eleanor – he had driven her away from him, not into another’s arms but to her death. Such a thing must not be allowed to happen again. This time he’d be careful – watch and wait, and if proved wrong, no harm would come of it. But if he were proved right, he must make a plan, a careful plan.
In spite of this, he couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his tone. ‘So you chose to go behind my back instead.’
He knew immediately that he hadn’t kept control of himself as he would have wanted as Martin suddenly raised his voice.
‘What is all this about? Whatever it is you’ve got on your mind, say it and have done with it!’
With Theo refusing to respond, he turned and strode for the door, calling over his shoulder, ‘You can think what you like as far as I’m concerned!’
Trying to master his tension as the door closed with a sharp, angry click, Theo moved towards the bedroom. Amelia must have heard Martin’s raised voice. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, a robe over her nightgown. She was gazing bleakly at him but he ignored the look.
‘You are up,’ he said, forcing himself to speak quietly. ‘I take it you are feeling better.’
She nodded. ‘I thought it was time I got up.’
Theo studied her closely. Had she been enjoying that man’s company, yes, she would feel better. But her gaze, though troubled, held such a look of innocence that he was already beginning to doubt his earlier conviction. She could have repulsed Martin and was now reluctant to say anything about it, or perhaps Martin hadn’t been here at all and he had misconstrued the whole thing, reading things into something quite innocuous, because he had wanted to.
He spoke gently now. ‘I’m glad you feel better. Mrs Hart will be back soon to prepare lunch and we will have it together, all three of us.’
He had hoped lunch would be its normal relaxed meal, with earlier strained relations having calmed, but Amelia, now dressed and reclining on the sofa, remained quiet and withdrawn. At lunch she spoke only when spoken to. He tried to dismiss it as Amelia still not feeling quite herself, but when Martin too, when he joined them, had little to say, he was forced again to read something significant into it. More significant still was that there wasn’t even an exchange of smiles between her and Martin where usually they would chat, sometime to his displeasure that she never chatted to him that way. True, Martin had always been easy to converse with and ready to talk, but this lunchtime they could have been total strangers.
‘When do you think you will be well enough to return to the act?’ Theo asked her, with a need to break the silence.
He saw her tense but ignored it. ‘It is very difficult with only myself and Martin.’
Her eyes flashed, her words came sharper than usual. ‘Did you really expect me to get up straight after …’ She caught herself in time, throwing Martin a quick glance. Obviously she hadn’t told him. ‘So soon after such a silly accident?’ she finished.
‘I hoped,’ he went on, ignoring the small show of anger, ‘that now you are up, you’d be feeling well enough to at least come to the theatre this evening, if only to watch from the
wings. I have had to drop those illusions that I devised purely for you, and had to resort to part of a routine Martin and I once did; it’s old stuff, and it cannot go on indefinitely.’
He busied himself in cutting into his lamb cutlet. ‘Our present arrangement is not going down well with the audience. If it goes on for much longer, we will lose out to that ridiculous conjuror, Chung Ling Soo, at the Pavilion. Twice nightly he is putting on his Boxer Rebellion, a bullet-catching routine set around an execution, and is playing to a packed house. I cannot afford to lose my audience to him. I know how it is done, an easy trick, a mechanism in the rifle that retains the bullet in the muzzle. The rest is mere sleight of hand.’ He knew he was talking far too much and too unnecessarily, but needed to fill this silence.
‘I would not lower myself to imitate such cheap tricks, which to my mind are downright dangerous were the mechanism to fail to operate. But should he come to a sticky end, I should be the last to mourn his passing.’
He paused at last to help himself to more vegetables. ‘You are not eating,’ he said, looking up to see them both merely picking at their food. Surely only the guilty would be unable to eat except with effort.
Nevertheless, be they innocent or guilty, he was going to marry Amelia, and soon. He would bring the wedding forward and to hell with a huge reception. That done, he would rid himself of Martin and there would be little she could do about it. He would take on another assistant, maybe two, maybe a whole host such as Mr Chung Ling Soo had, and like him have a complete show based on one splendid illusion, twice nightly, taking it around the country, around the world.
Chapter Thirty
‘You shouldn’t be going there tonight,’ Martin hissed as Theo locked the door to their apartments.
Emma gave him a secret smile. ‘I feel fine,’ she whispered back.
‘You don’t look it.’
Any more was cut short by Theo coming to take her arm, waving Martin ahead of them down the stairs to where his car sat waiting complete with chauffeur, Theo living up to his growing name and bank balance.
