One Snowy Night

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by Rita Bradshaw


  ‘Oh, you shouldn’t have.’ Polly gazed entranced at the silver locket in its little velvet box. ‘And I haven’t got you anything yet. Not that I expected a present for Christmas,’ she added hastily. ‘What I mean is—’

  ‘I know what you meant and I like to give you nice things, that’s all.’ Daniel Bell smiled at Ruby’s seamstress. Since he had been released from prison a short while ago, he’d made it his business to find out all he could about the woman who had put him in there, the upshot of this being that Polly had come across his path. Sweet, malleable Polly who had been putty in his hands from day one. He had told her that he had recently left the army after getting badly injured and losing his eye in the unrest between Arabs and Jews in Palestine in the summer, painting a picture of bravery and loyalty to king and country that had thrilled her romantic heart. He was settling back into civilian life as best he could, he’d confided, but he still found it difficult to adjust, and for that reason he would prefer to keep their relationship secret for the moment. He found it so easy to talk to her and be with her, he’d said gently, but it wasn’t like that with other folk, and so if she could just be patient and give him time . . .

  Polly had been flattered and smitten in equal measure, and had found – like many innocent young girls before her – Daniel’s charm impossible to resist. He had been careful to remain in the role he had created at all times, asking nothing of her but a goodnight kiss, showering her with little gifts, acting to perfection the part of the damaged hero who had found love for the first time in his life. Gradually he’d established what Ruby’s routine was, her comings and goings, the fact that she lived in the flat above the shop alone with no man to protect her.

  Now it was the day before Christmas Eve, and he had arranged to meet Polly after work in a little cafe they’d been to once or twice. Taking her hand, he said, ‘The locket is to celebrate us finding each other as much as Christmas, Polly, and I don’t want you to buy me anything, all right? Just being with you is sufficient for me. I adore you, Polly, you must know that? But this Miss Morgan of yours works you too hard,’ he added playfully. ‘You say you’ll be working right up to the last minute on Christmas Eve?’

  Polly nodded. ‘But it’s not her fault,’ she said earnestly. ‘We’ve got a client who is getting married on Boxing Day of all days and she’s been a right pain. First she was having two bridesmaids and then four, and we’re making all the dresses, and now she’s having a flower girl too at the last minute. Miss Morgan has got to alter the client’s dress an’ all because she’s put on a bit the last month or two. She came in today for her last fitting and was supposed to take the dress away with her, but the buttons wouldn’t do up. They go right from the neck to below her waist at the back, loads of little pearl things, they are.’

  Daniel didn’t give a fig about the buttons or the bride, but he nodded as though he was hanging on Polly’s every word.

  ‘Miss Morgan said it’s a good job she was planning to have a quiet Christmas this year and just go to her mam’s on Christmas Day for dinner, because she won’t get the dress done till the last minute tomorrow. It’s not fair, how some of the clients are. Just because they’re well off they expect miracles. They don’t think the likes of us have a life an’ all.’

  Daniel nodded sympathetically. So Ruby was going to be alone on Christmas Eve. Perfect. All good things come to him who waits. He looked out of the cafe window at the snow that was falling. It had started that morning and they were saying more was on the way so most folk would get their shopping done early and hunker down tomorrow, which meant the shops wouldn’t stay open late. The market would, but that was a good distance from Ruby’s shop. He’d have plenty of uninterrupted time to do all he intended to her. It had been the thought of that which had kept him going the last few years when Lonnie Gray and his gang had had their way with him. A huge man with arms on him like tree trunks, Lonnie, a lifer, had been the undisputed leader of the prisoners and he’d had a penchant for what he called ‘pretty boys’. What he’d suffered . . .

  ‘Daniel?’

  Polly’s voice was concerned and he quickly smoothed his face clear of all expression. ‘Touch of stomach ache,’ he said briefly. ‘Just the old injuries playing up now and again.’

  Polly squeezed his hand. He was so brave, so wonderful, so different to the lads of her own age who seemed gormless in comparison. She didn’t know what her mam and da would say about him being a bit older when she introduced him to them once he was ready, but she wouldn’t give him up. Not for anything. She would never meet someone like him again.

  It was Christmas Eve afternoon, and Edward was sitting staring into the crackling flames in the drawing room’s huge fireplace. Outside the house was a cold, hushed world and more snow was falling to add to the previous day’s although by northern standards it still wasn’t thick, being merely an inch or two, but inside there was warmth and the smell of Christmas cooking wafting from the kitchens now and again. He had a plate of mince pies to the side of him, which Clarissa’s cook had sent with the maid with strict instructions he was to eat the lot or she would want to know the reason why, and a glass of – as yet untouched – sherry. Clarissa and Godfrey were out on a duty Christmas visit to the Rochdales and expected back shortly, whereupon the three of them were going to enjoy a ‘nice peaceful Christmas together’, as Clarissa had put it. He felt guilty that they hadn’t accepted the numerous invitations that had come their way, or invited guests here to Foreburn, but Clarissa had insisted that a quiet Christmas was their choice, regardless of him. Believe that, believe anything, he thought morosely, and then chided himself on his churlishness. He was an ungrateful so-and-so and how Clarissa and Godfrey had put up with him he didn’t know, but come the New Year he would send out feelers about his future with both the RAF and the Civil Service and see what transpired.

  He heard a car outside, and thinking it was Clarissa and Godfrey hastily crammed a mince pie into his mouth. The whole household was on a mission to fatten him up, and although he appreciated the sentiment behind it, he found it tiresome in the extreme. Breakfast was no sooner over than he was being pressed to take elevenses, and after lunch it was the same. He would have to leave here soon or he’d be a walking barrel, although he had to admit the good food and rest over the last three weeks had begun to make him feel more like himself in the last couple of days. For three afternoons running he hadn’t felt the need to take a nap.

  When there was a knock at the drawing-room door and the maid put her head round it, he looked up in surprise. ‘There’s a Mrs Gilbert here, sir.’

  Mrs Gilbert? He had no idea who that was. ‘Have you told her my sister and husband are out at present?’

  ‘It wasn’t the mistress and master she wanted to see, sir. She asked for you.’ The maid hesitated and then said, ‘She came in a taxi, sir, and asked it to wait, so . . .’

  ‘Yes, yes, bring her in.’ Edward stood up, racking his brains. He’d heard the name before but he couldn’t think where.

  When Olive walked into the room and saw the man whom Ruby loved, she could instantly see what the attraction was, even before he came forward and said courteously, ‘Mrs Gilbert, you must forgive me, I’ve been ill and my memory isn’t what it was . . .’

  ‘We haven’t met, Mr Forsythe.’

  ‘No? Well, please sit down. Can I get you coffee?’

  ‘No, thank you, I have a cab waiting so I won’t be long.’ Having sat, Olive found that the words she had rehearsed for some time had completely gone. She stared into the handsome face in front of her, and after a moment, said, ‘I’m Ruby’s sister, Olive.’

  Gilbert. Of course.

  ‘And before I say anything more, I must tell you that Ruby has no idea I am here, Mr Forsythe. I’ve left the shop in the care of my assistants and—’ Olive stopped abruptly. He wouldn’t care about the shop, for goodness’ sake.

  ‘Mrs Gilbert—’

  ‘No, please listen, Mr Forsythe,’ she interrupted fo
rcefully, finding her flow. ‘Let me say what I need to say and then I’ll leave. Ruby loves you. She always has and she never stopped, not even when you got engaged to that other girl in America. It broke her heart, that’s the truth of it, and she bitterly regretted sending you away as soon as you had gone but didn’t know how to put things right, and then it was too late. She’d already decided you being rich didn’t matter and she had made a terrible mistake—’

  ‘I’m not rich.’

  ‘Not now, I’m talking about when you were. Rich or poor, it doesn’t matter to her and it shouldn’t to you, not if you still love her. Do you? Do you love Ruby, Mr Forsythe?’

  He stared into the face of Ruby’s sister and it came to him that although Olive Gilbert bore no resemblance whatsoever to the woman he loved, she certainly had Ruby’s directness. ‘I care for Ruby, yes,’ he said stiffly, feeling as though he had been run over by a human steamroller.

  ‘That wasn’t what I asked. Do you love her?’

  ‘I don’t think that is any concern of—’

  ‘She’s desperately unhappy, Mr Forsythe. I’ve made her unhappy in the past, which I’m sure you know all about.’ Olive swallowed hard. ‘She didn’t deserve what I did to her and she doesn’t deserve this either. If you do still love her as much as you claimed before you left, then why are you condemning her to a mere existence as well as yourself? It makes no sense. If you do still love her?’ she asked again.

  Edward stood up, running his hand through his hair and moving to stand in front of the fire with his back to her and one hand resting on the mantelpiece.

  ‘I love her with all my heart and soul, Mrs Gilbert. It sounds unchivalrous to say this but I was tricked into my engagement at a time when I think I didn’t really care what happened to me one way or the other.’ He paused, turning as he said, ‘You know I have nothing to offer her now? Nothing at all?’

  Olive’s eyes were bright and her voice was eager when she said, ‘You have everything to offer her – you have yourself, don’t you see? Ruby has told me that she thought ultimately she would make you unhappy if she tried to fit into your world, that the pressure of society would cause you both difficulties and grief, and likewise a man of your education and upbringing would find it hard to feel accepted in our class. But after you had gone to America and she thought she had lost you for ever, she realized none of that mattered and that you would weather any storms together. The way I see it, all that could bring you closer together if you are of like mind. It might not be easy, but once the front door is closed at night and it’s just the two of you that’s what’s important, not other people’s opinions or attitudes.’

  He stared at Olive, and then he surprised her utterly when he said softly, ‘You’ll make a great sister-in-law, Mrs Gilbert.’

  ‘So you’ll go and see her?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Today?’

  He nodded again, and Olive visibly relaxed, the smile that lit her face causing Edward to warm to her still further. Whatever had gone on in the past, she clearly loved Ruby.

  ‘Wish me luck.’

  ‘You don’t need it. I know how Ruby feels, Mr Forsythe.’

  ‘Edward. If we’re going to be related I think it’s time we dropped the formalities, don’t you?’

  Olive stood up as she said, ‘Will you come to Christmas dinner tomorrow, Edward? My mother and I would be so pleased to have you and you can meet Alice, my daughter.’

  ‘If all goes well, I would be delighted.’

  ‘It will, so we’ll see you about one o’clock?’ She hesitated, hoping Edward wouldn’t think she was being pushy, before saying, ‘I have a cab waiting – I could drop you off at Ruby’s if you like?’

  Edward thought quickly. It was nearly five o’clock and dark outside, although the snow provided plenty of illumination. Clarissa and Godfrey would be home soon; he could leave them a note explaining where he was, and asking them to send Pearson later on. ‘Actually, that would work very well, if you don’t mind. Give me a moment to write a note to my sister and we can be off.’

  Once Edward had disappeared, Olive exhaled a long breath. She looked down at Adam’s ring next to the gold wedding band. He had told Walter that he loved her when he was dying. She would never know for sure if he had meant it, or whether he was merely being kind knowing that he wasn’t long for this world.

  She closed her eyes for a moment. But what she did know was that he had bought the ring for her. He must have saved up for months to give her the engagement ring she had never had, and he had done that because he cared for her in some measure. Not as he had loved Ruby – she wasn’t foolish enough to imagine that – but there were many levels of love, after all.

  Ruby had always inspired love in those around her, even as a small child, and she had always been jealous of it. Bitterly jealous. And because of that she had taken something from her sister that could have destroyed their relationship for ever. Should have. But it hadn’t. She could still hardly believe it.

  She reached in her pocket for her handkerchief and wiped her eyes. Now she could atone for that awful act of betrayal, and she prayed with all her heart that Ruby and Edward would sort things out. Because she loved her sister. And not because Ruby had been so good to herself and Alice, although she had. She loved Ruby because of who her sister was, inside, where it counts. Perhaps they’d had to reach adulthood before she could do that, or maybe if things hadn’t happened as they had she would have carried on hating her for ever, watching her with Adam and their babies while she remained a frustrated and angry spinster.

  She blew her nose, shaking her head at herself. She was thinking too much again, and it never did her any good.

  She had composed herself by the time Edward returned, dressed for outdoors in a thick greatcoat and hat and scarf. Once in the taxi, Edward kept the conversation flowing, asking her about the shop and Alice and how her mother had adapted to their new environment, and she was content to follow his lead. Both of them knew the next hour or two would be momentous, but talking about it wouldn’t help.

  When the taxi drew up outside the shop, Edward surprised her by putting his hand over hers for a moment. ‘Thank you, Olive,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ll never forget what you did today, however this turns out. I couldn’t see the wood for the trees, that’s the truth of it.’

  She smiled. ‘The shop will be closing in a minute or two – do you want to wait a few moments until Ruby’s assistants have left?’ But even as she spoke, the door opened and two young girls came out, laughing and talking, and they caught sight of Ruby in the doorway as she turned the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’.

  Edward was out of the taxi in a heartbeat. Olive caught sight of her sister’s face as she saw him and it told her everything she needed to know. Leaning back in the seat, her smile widening, she said to the taxi driver, ‘You can go now.’

  Ruby had become transfixed as she watched Edward walk towards her through the falling snowflakes. The door was slightly ajar but for the life of her she couldn’t open it fully; it was as though she was frozen. It wasn’t until he said her name that she was able to respond, pulling it wide as she whispered, ‘Edward, Edward . . .’

  Even while he had been making conversation of sorts with Ruby’s sister, a different section of his mind had been planning what he would say when he saw her. Now he simply took her into his arms, kissing her as he had always dreamed of doing, long and hard and endlessly, lifting her right off her feet and kicking the door shut with one foot before he carried her over to one of the plush easy chairs and sat down with her on his lap, his lips never leaving hers for a moment.

  Her head was swimming and she was gasping by the time his mouth left hers long enough for him to mutter, ‘Oh, Ruby, I’ve been such a fool. Can you ever forgive me, my sweet? I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you’ll have me. Will you? Will you marry me, my love? Tell me it isn’t too late, that you still love me.’

  Her eyes glittering with
unshed tears, she pulled his mouth to hers again, kissing him with a passion that was answer enough, even before she whispered, ‘I’ll love you for ever and beyond and yes, I’ll marry you, but it’s all my fault. I should never have—’

  He cut off her words by the simple expedient of kissing her again, and it was only some minutes later when they became aware of a handful of bairns with their noses pressed up against the window and a scandalized mother attempting to marshal them away, that she said shakily, ‘I think we’d better go upstairs to the flat.’

  He waited while she locked the door and then extinguished the lights before pulling her in to him again, and like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, they walked through to the back of the shop where Ruby opened the door leading to the flat.

  The snow was falling thickly outside now but Ruby’s little sitting room was as warm as toast, and by unspoken mutual consent they sat down on the small sofa in front of the fire whereupon Edward took her hands in his. ‘I have to explain,’ he said huskily. ‘Why I was the way I was when you came to Foreburn.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Yes, it does. You have to understand that it wasn’t you, it was me. I couldn’t think straight, Ruby. I’ve been in turmoil. But for Olive coming today—’

  ‘Olive has been to see you?’ she exclaimed, her voice high, but when she would have pulled her hands from his he held on tight to her fingers.

  ‘And thank God she did,’ he said softly. ‘She’s very forthright, your sister, isn’t she.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Then let me explain, my love.’ He pulled her to him, sitting her on his lap again as he kissed her hard before beginning to talk.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Daniel Bell stood in the small space left in the yard of the shop by the annexe, his heart thudding with excitement. The back lane had been deserted when he’d walked down it but even if it hadn’t been he had made sure that with his cap pulled low over his eyes and his muffler up round his neck and mouth, no one would be able to recognize him. It was seven o’clock. He had walked down the main street first and the shop had been in darkness, but light glowed in the flat above. All was going to plan.

 

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