The Woman From Heartbreak House

by Freda Lightfoot

  ‘Worse in what respect?’ Kate had disliked his parting remark, had felt an instinctive need to deny she would do any such thing. Succumb to his charms indeed. Her traitorous flesh, however, said otherwise. ‘Sure and I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘You aren’t going to spend the rest of your life all alone, are you? I know Callum was disapproving of the friendship, but what does he know? You do as you please, I don’t mind.’

  ‘Well, thank you kindly for your permission, miss. Do I look so desperate that I need a man to look after me? Indeed, I think not.’ And Kate shushed a laughing Flora and packed her off to bed, her own cheeks bright crimson. If only she could decide how she felt about Theo Ingram. One minute she was sorely tempted to fall into his arms, the next she couldn’t bear him near her. It was all most odd.

  Ralph Powney was staring at Bunty as if she’d gone quite mad. For the last few weeks she’d been the soul of discretion. She’d endured endless dress fittings, shown interest in her bridesmaids and the wedding breakfast, even discussed which hymns were to be sung by the choir. She’d helped write scores of invitations, and agreed which of their various cousins would act as ushers.

  When events reached a point of what felt like complete chaos, and even the well-organised Lucy was tearing her hair, Bunty chose to make her move. She suddenly insisted that Ralph be called, as she had something of great importance to tell him.

  ‘You aren’t going to call it off, not again. I won’t allow it.’

  ‘I need to speak with him. Now!’

  Lucy had railed and wept, raged and stormed, insisting Bunty tell her first what this was all about, but she absolutely refused. In the end she’d been forced to comply with her daughter’s request.

  Now Bunty was sitting on the aunts’ threadbare sofa in the front parlour, the aunts themselves huddled in the back living room with her mother, no doubt itching to know what was going on. Bunty wouldn’t put it past any of them to listen at the door.

  She got to her feet. ‘Shall we take a turn about the garden, or perhaps down the lane? This is a very private and personal matter, just between ourselves.’

  Reluctantly, although he was every bit as curious as they to hear what she had to say, Powney agreed.

  Bunty had wondered how to broach the subject, how to begin, but remembering how a previous blunt approach had devastated Callum, opted for the same method. ‘I am sure my mother has explained that I am not entirely innocent but I feel I should make things quite clear between us, before it is too late for you to change your mind. I want you to know that I have enjoyed the attentions of a lover.’

  He stopped dead, looking most satisfactorily shocked, which clearly told Bunty that, true to her word, her mother had said nothing at all about her past indiscretions. How wonderful to have upset her plans at last! In the silence which followed she heard the unmistakable call of a wood pigeon, and Bunty thought how much more appropriate a cuckoo would have been, in the circumstances. Which errant thought almost made her laugh out loud. Fortunately she managed to control herself just in time. Hysteria would not help.

  She caught the fresh tang of newly cut grass from a neighbour’s garden, perhaps the last mowing before the autumn rains came. The sappy scent of it somehow filled her with new strength, reminding her that the chill days ahead would soon pass, spring would come again and she was still young and full of vigour, with all her life before her. She didn’t have to be bullied, not by this man, nor by her mother.

  And it would seem that she had, at last, silenced him. Ralph Powney was glaring at her, mute with fury.

  Bunty blithely continued with her tale, her gaze kept modestly downward, hands clasped as if in anxiety. ‘My mother did not approve of our relationship and she insisted I stop seeing him. However, I have to tell you now that I did not obey her. We have not only continued to see each other regularly but have been intimate.’ It was only a slight adjustment of the truth, after all. They had been lovers, and would be still if Bunty had her way. She felt no compunction about lying to her unwelcome suitor.

  ‘Now I must confess to you that I carry his child. So, you see, it is quite impossible for me to marry you. It would be most unfair, even to please my mother. I am already compromised.’

  She lifted her eyes briefly to his, ready to meet cold fury, incandescent rage. Even physical abuse would not have been unexpected. Bunty would gladly have endured the odd slap if she was then left free as the sweet blackberry brambles frolicking over the autumn hedgerows. She was shocked instead to find that Ralph’s mouth was curling into that supercilious smile of his.

  ‘Your mother prepared me for this moment. She said you might well come up with some fanciful yarn about having relinquished your virginity for love, and that I was not to believe a word of it.’

  Bunty’s heart gave a little jump of fear. She’d played her trump card and still she’d lost. ‘But it’s true ... I swear it’s true.’

  Ralph Powney shook his head, looking happier than she’d ever seen him. ‘I think not.’

  Anger raged through her like a forest fire, hot and swift. ‘It happened, I tell you. He got me pregnant and my mother made me have an abortion!’

  Now Ralph actually laughed out loud. ‘If you are going to lie, my sweet, at least be consistent and get your story straight. Either you are pregnant with his child, or you have had an abortion. Which is it? You cannot have it both ways.’

  Too late, Bunty realised her mistake. By being unable to lie convincingly and now resorting to the truth on a burst of temper, her story had lost credibility entirely. ‘I’m telling you the truth, I swear it! I was still a schoolgirl when it happened, and had to be moved to a new school to avoid a scandal.’

  He looked at her askance, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. ‘And now you’re pregnant again? You are having a second child?’

  ‘Y-yes, I am.’ Oh, Lord, she’d messed everything up. Much as she might rant and swear that she was guilty of this shameful act, Bunty knew her so-called fiancé did not believe a word she said. He was laughing uproariously, as if it were all hugely amusing. He kissed her gently on the brow.

  ‘I realise you are nervous of matrimony but fear not, my sweet, you will enjoy intimacy with me, I promise you. I’ll teach you all you need to know.’

  ‘No, that’s not the problem at all. I really am in love with someone else and could well be ...’

  ‘Hush! That’s enough of this nonsense’ Once again he gave that lop-sided leer which sent shivers down Bunty’s spine, his tone condescending as if speaking to a child. ‘If this tale is true, and I must say that you do not appear enceinte, then I am prepared to take the chance you are mistaken. If I’m wrong, and you are carrying his child, then I will accept it and bring it up as my own. I cannot say fairer than that. I shall be the perfect gentleman, behave like a man of honour. You have no need to fret, my lovely, I will not see you disgraced.’

  Lucy couldn’t believe her own ears. After all her hard work, all the effort she’d put into launching her daughter over these last months to have her attempt to undo it all with a streak of perverse rebellion on the day before the wedding was too much to bear. Yet here was Ralph Powney telling her exactly that.

  ‘I cannot imagine what possessed her to make up such lies.’ Lucy gave a trill of uneasy laughter. ‘Saucy madam! I should think it is but wedding nerves.’ Could it be true? She thought wildly. Had the stupid girl indeed been seeing Callum secretly and got herself pregnant again?

  ‘My sentiments entirely. I said as much.’

  ‘Did you indeed?’ Lucy stifled a sigh of relief. Perhaps the situation could be saved after all, yet rage roared in her like a furnace. She must damp it down, try to appear calm, even though she was beset by fools and idiots at every turn, even though her own daughter seemed hell-bent on ruining her own future, all their futures. She wouldn’t tolerate it, not for a moment longer. ‘I’ll speak with her, give her something to calm her nerves.’

  ‘I would recommend that you do.
’ Ralph half turned away, and then on a more casual note remarked, ‘Of course, I am assuming that it is indeed a lie, that there isn’t a single grain of truth in what she says?’

  ‘Of course not. How could there be?’

  ‘Only she did change her story halfway through, which rather gave the impression that it started out as a lie and ended up as gospel truth, if you catch my drift? Something about an abortion?’

  Lucy went white. What had the girl told him? ‘My daughter, sir, is as pure as a young girl ought to be on the eve of matrimony, as you will discover for yourself on your wedding night.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Except that it will be too late by then, will it not?’

  ‘I believe what you really mean is that will be entirely the right time to discover that she is indeed a virgin,’ gently scolded Lucy. ‘Isn’t that the way of it? That you, as her bridegroom, have that pleasure to look forward to?’

  ‘Of course,’ he said darkly. ‘That is exactly what I meant.’

  After he had gone, Lucy picked up a porcelain vase which stood on a marble pedestal and flung it in the hearth, smashing it into a dozen pieces. ‘Drat! Drat! Drat! I’ll kill her ... I’ll kill her for this!’

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  ‘Yes, I told him that I was pregnant! And that it was Callum’s child. And that I don’t want to marry him. And, no, I don’t care if we have to live on porridge oats for the rest of our lives, I will not marry Ralph Powney!’

  ‘You most certainly will marry him. All the arrangements are made. You cannot back down now. I will not allow it!’

  ‘He never asked me. I never agreed to it, you did! So why don’t you marry him yourself?’

  The raised voices, and the sound of a stinging slap, rang through the little house in Heversham, rousing the two aunts from their afternoon slumbers and bringing them bolt upright in their matching wing chairs before, shamefaced, they crept to the parlour door to listen closely to every word.

  ‘You lied! How dare you try to ruin everything by lying.’

  ‘Of course I lied. I love Callum, and always will. Can’t you understand that one simple fact, Mother? If I can’t have Callum, I shall have no one.’

  Cissie whispered, ‘Did she say that she was pregnant, Vera?’

  ‘Hush! She said that she lied.’

  ‘Callum left me because of you, because you forced me to have that abortion and he believes I wanted it too. He was eager to marry me, would have welcomed the baby, our baby, but you killed it, Mother. You killed it! I’ve had enough. I won’t obey you any more. I’m twenty-one and I mean to live my own life in future, whatever that might be, and do exactly as I please!’

  Lucy was incandescent with rage. ‘You will do no such thing! I’ve encouraged Powney in the belief that you’re merely suffering pre-nuptial nerves. You can’t get out of it now. Everything’s arranged. He means to have you. We need this marriage.’

  ‘I shall shout it in church tomorrow, if necessary. Tell the whole world. You cannot make me marry that man, and I’ll do anything, anything, to make sure that I don’t. I want Callum!’

  Again a ringing slap, more screams and raging, the slam of a door and the sound of a key turning in the lock. Then silence, ominous and deep.

  The two aunts exchanged shocked glances. Never had they heard such heartbreak and despair in a girl’s voice and their maiden hearts were deeply touched. ‘Something must be done,’ said Vera, usually the more unemotional of the two.

  ‘Indeed, and we must be the ones to do it. Poor dear Bunty is to be wed to this man in just a few hours, and she clearly does not wish to be.’

  ‘Time,’ Vera agreed, ‘is of the essence.’

  Theo Ingram called again the following evening, and the one after that. Kate shooed him away but this Friday lunchtime here he was again, waiting outside the shop for her to lock up, insisting on walking her home. It was then that Kate lost her temper. Perhaps she was tired, overwrought with nerves over the coming opening next week, but somehow Theo seemed to be hovering around every corner and she really didn’t care for it.

  She stopped dead in the street and shouted at him. ‘I thought I asked you to leave me alone? You’re starting to get on me nerves, so ye are.’

  He looked startled. ‘But I care for you, Kate. I want to be sure that you’re all right, that you do well. Look, I’ve been thinking. This area is no good, and the shop is far too small, it won’t work. I know you’ve done your best but really, it isn’t good enough for you.’

  Kate gasped. ‘Haven’t ye the cheek of the devil? I think that’s for me to decide, don’t you? We open Saturday week, for heaven’s sake. I’ll make it work, so I will.’

  ‘I could lend you money, if that’s the problem. Then you could find somewhere bigger and better in the centre of the city. Better still, Ingram’s could supply you with stock. We could go into partnership. Wouldn’t that be for the best? You’d have your independence but security too. Let’s go and eat somewhere. We can at least talk about it.’

  Kate stormed away, shouting back to him over her shoulder. ‘I don’t want yer flamin’ money, or your security, or your awful old fashioned stock! I’ll succeed on me own, see if I don’t.’

  ‘You need me, Kate.’

  ‘I don’t need anyone, ta very much.’

  He hurried after her, caught her by the arm and gave her a little shake. ‘You do. You need a man in your life. Every woman does. You need someone to take care of you, to get you out of that pig sty you call home.’

  Twin spots of colour burned high on her cheeks and she pushed him furiously away. ‘I’ve a soft spot for pig sties, if you want to know. But whatever you might think of my house, it’s home to me, and I like it. Really, I think it would be best if we didn’t see quite so much of each other in future. I’ve told you, I’ve enough on me plate at present with the opening of my new shop next week. Besides, you’re wrong, I’m not in the market for a new fella in me life. I was happily married once ... twice as a matter of fact, but I was only a lass first time and the poor lad drownded in the River Kent. Anyway, I haven’t yet found anyone fit to replace either one of them.’

  Theo’s eyes were regarding her with a strange intensity. ‘You’ve just told me more in these five seconds than you have in all the time I’ve know you.’

  Kate flounced away from him. ‘I’ve just told you, as my friend Millie would say, to sling yer hook.’

  He hurried after her, caught her to him again. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so pushy. Let me buy you a glass of sherry at the Crown, Kate. Please forgive me. I swear I will do nothing to offend you again.’

  Ever fair, Kate thought she probably had over-reacted. ‘Just one glass then.’

  They had a couple, then she allowed him to walk her home, and he was again the perfect gentleman, so much so that she allowed him to come in for a cup of coffee.

  ‘I get a bit carried away because I want to put everything right for you. You’re lovely, do you know that? I can’t resist you, can’t stop thinking about you, can’t keep my hands off you. I need you, Kate.’

  They were sitting on the settle in the front parlour, his hand patting her knee, gently smoothing her thigh, the pressure and promise of his touch sending waves of emotion shooting through her. She felt like a shy young girl again, not a twice-widowed wife and mother. But then that was half the trouble, she was still young, still needing the love of a man. Dear Lord, help me, Kate thought. I’m putty in his hands.

  His kiss this time shook her to the core, it was long and deep and drove her to respond whether she wanted to or not. Oh, but she did want to. He was an attractive man and when it came to it, she couldn’t seem to help herself, even as guilt nudged at her, telling her this wasn’t right.

  All of a sudden his hands were under her blouse caressing her bare skin, teasing her breasts, kissing and loving her as she remembered Eliot had once used to do. She imagined for a moment that it was Eliot and excitement mounted in her. Her desire to be loved, t
o be needed, was growing with a frightening speed and intensity. She could hear him moan her name. He captured her face between his hands, kissed her till her mouth was bruised and rosy with his kisses.

  ‘Can’t we go upstairs? We’re two adults, after all. You know that I love you. I want you, Kate. I want you very much.’

  His kisses thrilled her, the touch of a man after all these months of loneliness, of even Toby never touching her or showing the least interest these days, set her senses alight. She felt powerless to resist. She shifted a little closer, emotions swamping her yet at the last moment overcome by a strange reluctance. Was it this man she really wanted, or was this simply a weakness on her part? This wasn’t Eliot. This wasn’t her man. She didn’t even like Ingram very much. She pulled back, pressed both hands to his chest to push him away. ‘Please stop. It’s been so long, I’m not sure I can ...’

  ‘Too long, my sweet. Let me show you ...’

  When the hammering began on the door, she didn’t know whether to weep with disappointment or relief.

  Toby stood grinning down at her. ‘I know I wasn’t supposed to arrive until next Thursday, but I’ve taken some time off so I could pop over a bit sooner and help get things properly finalised.’ He suddenly noticed that she had company. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, have I come at a bad time?’ Then his gaze moved from her face and focused on the fact that her blouse had come loose from her skirt and the top button was undone, her cheeks were all flushed and her hair awry.

  Kate thought she might never forget the look of shock on Toby’s face. He was clearly appalled to have found them thus, and hugely embarrassed. So was Kate. She wanted to say that nothing had actually happened but since Toby had interrupted them by knocking at the door, there didn’t seem much point. It would be viewed as little more than a pathetic attempt to restore her damaged honour.

  Toby was glaring at Ingram as if he’d like to kill him, while Theo gave his usual arrogant grin and chuckled. ‘I should think that’s pretty obvious, don’t you? Couldn’t have been worse timing, old chap.’