by Janet Tanner
‘Yes?’
His eyes took in her tear-stained face, looking past her he saw the suitcase open on the bed, her clothes strewn around it, her toiletries still arranged neatly on the dressing table, the only personal effects in that bare and sterile room.
‘Are you all right?’ His voice was rough.
‘Yes.’
‘But you are leaving.’
‘I can hardly stay here now. In any case I came to look after Hugh and it is clear that he has recovered. He doesn’t need me.’
‘Sarah …’
‘If that is all you came to say I’d be obliged if you’d leave me to get on with my packing.’ She turned her back on him, crossed to the bed and dumped a day dress, unfolded, into the case.
He followed her into the room. ‘What happened, Sarah?’
She swept up a handful of toiletries from the dressing table.
‘You saw what happened.’
‘No, I only saw part of what happened.’
‘And drew your conclusions. I’m a whore, Adam. The daughter of a whore. Hasn’t Alicia told you that?’
He ignored the challenge. ‘What did you mean, Sarah, by what you said to Hugh?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Come now, don’t treat me like a fool. There’s more to this than meets the eye, isn’t there? I have always known there was something. I want to know what it is.’
‘Why?’ She was fastening her case, avoiding looking at him.
‘Because I care about you Sarah – very much,’ he said quietly. ‘I can’t bear to see you so upset. I want to know what this is all about.’
She swallowed. Her throat felt dry and choky.
‘Why don’t you ask Hugh?’
‘I did. He was very evasive. So now I’m asking you. Please tell me, Sarah.’
Her dry throat convulsed. She covered her face with her hands. ‘I can’t.’
‘Yes you can.’ He took her hands, holding them. His eyes seemed to be looking into her very soul. Gently he eased her down until she was sitting on the edge of the bed and she did not resist. Every bit of fight seemed to have gone out of her. ‘Tell me.’
And suddenly she was telling him, the words tumbling out, confiding the secrets she had kept to herself for so long. When she had finished she looked up at him fearfully. His face was hard.
‘Do you believe me?’
‘Well, of course. Why shouldn’t I?’ He did not mention he had already heard another, different version of the story.
‘No-one else did. Or perhaps they chose not to.’
‘Perhaps. After all, Hugh is one of their own.’
He was making excuses for Alicia’s part in it, she thought. For some reason it hurt all the more sharply when he was sitting there beside her, holding her hands, comforting her.
‘I never thought he’d try it again,’ she said. ‘If I had I’d never have come here, not even for Gilbert. Or perhaps – perhaps I did suspect he might, but I thought I was capable of taking care of myself now.’
‘Oh Sarah.’ He shook his head. ‘And you never told Gilbert.’
‘No. I didn’t want him to know. It would have hurt him so much, not only because Hugh … did what he did, but because the others lied to him. Promise me you won’t tell him, Adam.’
‘I wouldn’t say anything. It’s not my place. But I think he should know all the same. He never could understand why you went away.’
‘I know and I’m sorry about that. But I still think it’s best he should blame me rather than know his family …’ She broke off, remembering that she was talking to Alicia’s husband, then raised her eyes defiantly. For Gilbert’s sake she had protected them all these years. But this was one sacrifice she was not prepared to make.
‘Just as long as you believe me, that’s all that matters,’ she said.
‘I believe you.’
Tears stung her eyes again. ‘That’s all right then,’ she said. ‘I don’t care about anything else.’
‘So why are you crying?’ He said it very gently.
‘Because I thought that you … oh Adam, I couldn’t bear to think that you would think badly of me. Not you …’
‘Sarah, I could never think badly of you …’ And suddenly, without knowing how it happened, she was in his arms.
It had been so long, so long. She had hungered for him so much, been so certain that he was lost to her forever, that never again would she feel the rippling muscles of his back and shoulders beneath her fingers, the roughness of his chin against her cheek. It was wrong, she knew. They each belonged now to someone else. But the depth of her desire, suppressed for so long, swept her through the barriers that drew the dividing line between comfort and love and she clung to him as little able to tear herself away as she had been to control her tears.
Adam – the whole world was Adam. It had been from the moment she had met him and nothing that had happened between, none of the ebbs and flows, none of the moments of despair and heartache, mattered any more. His lips touched her forehead, her cheeks, her throat, and she moved sensuously beneath them, relishing every contact. Then his mouth found hers, kissing her with the fervour of a drowning man gasping for air and she felt as if she were melting into him, losing all identity, all sense of time and place. The storms of the past hour were forgotten now, Hugh like the rest of the world had ceased to exist. There was only Adam and her love for him, stronger, deeper, more all-consuming than any other emotion she had ever experienced.
Her body ached for him, every nerve ending alive suddenly and singing. She felt his hands caressing her like the touch of icy fingers on fevered skin and the echoes sensitised every inch of her – breasts, stomach and her soft inner thighs so that she felt as if an electric current were passing through her. Adam … Adam … For long, precious moments she hung suspended in this vortex of unreality, knowing only that at last she was where she wanted to be, sheltered from the storms, home at last, warming herself at the fire of his love. Then perversely she was aware of the first tiny flicker of guilt and the awareness fanned the flicker into a fire.
‘Adam, no, we mustn’t. It’s wrong. Eric …’
‘You don’t love Eric. You never did.’ He continued to kiss her.
‘Adam-no! Alicia …’
At the mention of his wife’s name he raised his head, looking at her.
‘Why are you determined to spoil this?’
‘I don’t want to spoil …’
‘Then hush!’ He kissed her again, his lips stopping her protests. But the first uncaring magic had gone. Alicia and Eric were there between them now, shadows of reality. Sensing her withdrawal he released her.
‘Our marriage is nothing but a sham, Sarah. It was never really anything else. A marriage of convenience, you could say.’
‘Why did you go through with it then?’
‘Why? Because …’ He broke off, answering her question with one of his own. ‘Why did you run off and leave me?’
She hesitated. ‘I’m not sure I should tell you that … I don’t want to spoil what there is between you.’
‘I told you – there is nothing to spoil. What feeling I had for Alicia died long ago. But it does matter to me very much to know why you … did what you did. Tell me.’ His eyes seemed to bore into her.
‘I … Alicia …’ And still the words would not come. It was too dreadful.
‘I think I already suspect the truth.’ His face was hard. ‘It was some kind of blackmail, wasn’t it?’ She nodded wordlessly. ‘She threatened to tell Gilbert about you and Hugh, is that it?’
‘That was part of it.’
‘And the rest?’ He took her chin between his fingers. ‘Come on, Sarah, you are going to tell me if I have to crush it out of you.’
‘Very well.’ She could not look at him. ‘ If you are determined to have the truth, here it is. It was at the time you desperately needed Gilbert’s backing. She said she would see you did not get it unless I did as she asked. She promised to see your future with
the company was secure if I left the field clear for her. Otherwise she said it was the end of your dream of an aeroplane.’ She glanced at him fearfully as she finished speaking. The expression on his face was unreadable.
‘You did that for me?’
‘And for Annie and Max. Annie was having John and she was desperately afraid Max would not be able to afford to marry her. So I had no choice, did I? I knew simply leaving was not enough. So I went back to Eric’
‘You used him.’
‘Yes, I suppose I did. But I have been a good wife to him, Adam. I’ve made him happy. And I’m going to go on making him happy. I owe him that much at least.’
His hands tightened around her chin. She could feel his fingers biting into her jawbone.
‘You can’t go back to him. Not now. I won’t let you.’
Her eyes swam with tears. The temptation was so strong she did not know how to resist it. She swallowed at the knot in her throat.
‘I have to, Adam. It’s too late for anything else. Too many people are involved – innocent people who will be hurt.’
‘Eric has had you for almost five years. If he hasn’t been able to make you love him in that time then he doesn’t deserve you.’
‘And what about Stephen?’
‘I’ll take care of Stephen.’
‘But he worships his father, Adam. And anyway, Eric might refuse to let me have him. I couldn’t leave him – he’s a little boy, he needs me. No, it’s out of the question – impossible!’
‘That’s what they said about getting an aeroplane off the ground.’
‘Oh – fiddle! Getting an aeroplane off the ground is nothing compared to what you are proposing.’
‘Do you love me?’
‘You know I do. I always have and I always will. But I can’t do it, Adam. We have to forget this afternoon happened and try to go on just as before.’
Something in her tone must have told him her mind was made up. He let go of her abruptly and stood up.
‘That is one thing I don’t have to do. The reason I came home today was to break the news that I have been given a transfer. I am going to join a squadron. In France.’
She gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. ‘Oh no!’
‘Oh yes.’ He smiled quizzically. ‘I thought it was about time I did my bit for England. Now I see it is an even better solution than I imagined.’
‘Oh Adam!’ She stretched out her hands to him. ‘Do you have to go?’
‘I’m afraid I do.’
‘But supposing you …’ She broke off, biting back the words. ‘Supposing you don’t come back?’
He shrugged. ‘That really would solve everything satisfactorily, wouldn’t it?’
‘Oh don’t say such things!’ She was in turmoil now. A moment ago everything had seemed so clear cut and she had known exactly what she should do, no matter how hard it might be. Now suddenly everything had turned topsy turvy again. He smiled crookedly.
‘No, I dare say it’s not such a bad thing that I am going away. It will give us a breathing space, won’t it? Time to think. By the time the war is over you may feel able to change your mind.’ His tone was very cool; she felt as if he had gone away from her already. The earlier closeness had all gone, now there was only confusion and despair. ‘I take it you still intend to leave Chewton Leigh tonight?’
‘Of course. I couldn’t stay under the same roof as Hugh. Will you tell Gilbert? Say that I couldn’t bear to be parted from Stephen for a moment longer.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘I shall tell Gilbert what I think fit.’
‘Adam, you promised!’
‘I promised not to tell him what happened all those years ago. I said nothing about this afternoon’s episode. I don’t see why he shouldn’t be told that Hugh has recovered sufficiently to make a nuisance of himself. But if it will upset you I suppose I must be careful what I say. Now – if you are going perhaps I should leave you to finish your packing.’
‘Very well.’ She took her cool tone from him. It was after all what she wanted – was it not? But as he turned to the door she simply could not bear it. She ran after him, grabbing his arm. ‘Adam – you will take care, won’t you? Please, come back safely – oh please!’
For a moment their eyes met and held, love, pure and strong, passing between them like an electric current. Then he pulled her to him, very gently kising her again, pressing her to him as if to remember every line of her body with his own, and she felt as if her very soul was being drawn out of her, slowly, poignantly, leaving her an empty shell. Her arms were twined around his neck for she suddenly had the craziest feeling that if she could only keep him there in her arms everything would be miraculously changed and they could be together for ever. But with an abrupt movement he freed himself, turning again for the door.
‘Goodbye my love.’
‘Goodbye.’
Then he was gone and the bleakness and sense of loss came rushing in to engulf her. Nothing had changed. Circumstances were still conspiring to keep them apart just as they always had and perhaps always would.
Only now there was a new factor – the danger of war which could take him from her forever. And in that moment Sarah knew that nothing was important, nothing mattered, just as long as he came home safely.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The cold winter months had done nothing to help Lawrence’s cough. Though he tried to hide from his family the fact that it was worsening he was beginning to be seriously concerned about the racking bouts he suffered which now occurred frequently and which sometimes kept him awake at night. And he was always so tired! Sometimes it was all he could do to muster the energy for everyday duties – especially since they were becoming more and more onerous as the war effort reached new heights of endeavour.
One day in February Lawrence decided to go to see Dr Haley. He had delayed the visit as long as possible partly because he objected to Blanche’s imperious commands that he should do so and partly because he was secretly afraid of what he might hear from the now-ageing but still robust doctor, and when Dr Haley had examined him Lawrence knew from the old man’s face that his fears had been justified.
‘I don’t care for it, Lawrence, I don’t care for it at all,’ Dr Haley said bluntly, easing his thumbs under the watch chain which straddled his portly chest. ‘ You should have come to see me before now.’
‘With a cough? I’m not an old woman, you know!’ Lawrence said in an effort to hide his anxiety. ‘But now I am here, can you give me something to ease it?’
‘I dare say I can do that but I have the gravest suspicion it is more than just a cough,’ the doctor informed him. ‘There is only one thing for it in my opinion and that is to get away from this damned climate of ours. I think a spell in a sanatorium is what you need, with good clear air and plenty of rest. I know of a very good one in Austria but with the war on I dare say it would make more sense to look to Switzerland. Leave it with me and I’ll see what I can do.’
‘Good Lord, that’s out of the question!’ Lawrence said, aghast.
‘Why, man? There’s no shortage of money, is there?’
‘Of course not. But we are at full production at the works. I can’t go haring off to Switzerland!’
‘Well, Lawrence, it’s up to you. But if you value your health you’ll think about it – and soon.’
‘Impossible!’
‘You won’t be much use to the works or anyone else if you put yourself in a coffin,’ the doctor said flatly. He reached for his pen, thinking for a moment. ‘I’ll prescribe you something as you ask but I do urge you to give some serious thought to the sanatorium. And don’t hesitate to come and see me again, or call me to the house, if things get worse.’
‘Very well, I’ll think about it,’ Lawrence agreed. But already his mind was made up. He couldn’t leave the works and go off to Switzerland for months, or even weeks. If he did he would return to find himself usurped by Leo de Vere. The damned fellow was always breathing down
his neck – with a golden opportunity like that presented to him he would take over before Lawrence’s chair was cool. No, whatever Dr Haley might say he would simply have to dose himself up, try to get a little more rest, and soldier on. After all it was no more than thousands of others were doing on both sides of the Channel.
Hoping his absence had not been noticed, Lawrence returned to the works.
Alicia’s first ‘guests’, as she preferred to call the recuperating patients, arrived during the early part of the bleak cold month of February – two young officers who had been wounded at Ypres. One had lost a leg, amputated in a field hospital when gangrene threatened, the other, a gentle student who had left his studies at Oxford to rush with patriotic fervour into the army on the outbreak of war, had been blinded. Both had suffered as much emotional damage as they had physical – their nerves were so shot that the slightest sudden noise or even a raised voice, could turn them into gibbering wrecks and when they suffered nightmares, as they did frequently, it was only the thick walls of Chewton Leigh which prevented them from waking the whole house with their screams.
Alicia was good with them. Her rather hard, autocratic manner seemed to reassure them and provided a crutch while they struggled to come to terms with the shattered wreck of their lives. But Hugh had little patience with them. For one thing he did not care to be reminded of the terrible wounds it was possible to suffer, for another his own nerve had recovered so well he found himself irritated by their babblings.
‘Call themselves men? They’d never have got commissions in the regular army,’ he said disgustedly.
‘They aren’t men – they are little more than boys,’ Alicia pointed out. ‘And they have suffered terribly.’
But Hugh, who seemed to have become even more arrogant, like a young plant which has weathered the winter storms and grown stronger because of it, refused to be sympathetic.
‘No wonder we are not making any progress with this war with lillies like them fighting on our side. I’m glad to be going back, I can tell you.’
Alicia’s eyes darkened. She was dreading the imminent departure of her brother. Bad enough to know that Adam was in France; when Hugh had gone too …
