by Gloria Cook
‘I promise.’
‘Mummy’s going to write a letter. You usually see the postman first. All you have to do is pass it to him without anyone knowing, then in a day or two, if Mummy gets a reply, bring me the letter in the same way.’
When Jonathan drifted off to sleep, Ursula pressed a hand over where she could feel her baby moving. ‘Please be there, Bruce,’ she whispered. ‘Or I’ll have to give our child away.’
Chapter Twenty-Eight
On the platform of Truro railway station, Ben gave Florence Burrows a wad of money, which she secreted into her handbag.
‘It’s so good of you to understand about this, Ben. I don’t like leaving you and Honor to cope alone, but, well, I’d heard about the spa, you see, always wanted to go there.’ Although she had never looked and acted as chirpy before this, Florence brought a gloved hand up to her brow as if she was feeble and faint. ‘If I don’t get a little break soon… You will make sure Eliza doesn’t leave too much for Honor to do? It’s time you stopped that woman slipping off to the pub. Ruby Brokenshaw shouldn’t allow women patronage.’
‘Don’t you worry about us, Mrs Burrows,’ Ben said, a sparkle in his eye at being rid of her demands and nit-picking for a while. ‘I hope you’ll find the hotel you’ve chosen a perfect place to rest. Write to us as soon as you’re settled, and send a telegram when you want me to meet the return train.’ When the steam engine chugged in, he helped her into a first-class carriage and delighted her by kissing her goodbye.
Shortly afterwards he was kissing Polly Hetherton. After a frantic coupling on her bed, he lit them both a cigarette, took a puff of his, then started to dress. Polly dragged him back to her.
‘It was a lovely surprise to see you this early in the day, darling, but I’m not going to allow you to leave me yet,’ she crooned in his ear, nibbling the lobe.
Ben enjoyed the shivers it gave him, but he checked his fresh desire. ‘Sorry, Pol, I’ve got too much to do at home. Then there’s Eugenie Bawden’s officers’ party tonight. Can’t let the guests down, they need every bit of support. I’ll see you and Julian there.’
The lovers’ thoughts turned to prayers. The officers would not long be on home soil. The British had far extended their lines, but the Germans, with reinforcements released from the Eastern Front, were preparing a massive new offensive.
‘Is Honor attending the party?’
‘Yes.’
Polly drew in on her cigarette then stubbed it out. Apart from social occasions like tonight, life had been boring until she and Julian had happened on Ben. She adored his body and enjoyed his energy. She liked his gentle side, but his betraying the young dairy maid had turned him on fire, and she was thrilled by the festering, dangerous part of him. It had been a succession of treats to teach him the arts of sensuality. He was inventive, an eager pioneer, and she longed for him when he wasn’t with her.
Before he could pull on his shirt she snatched it away and tossed it far from the four-poster. ‘Busy, busy, busy.’ She tapped the words down his well-formed chest. ‘You’ve got a couple of Land Girls now. You’ll be able to get on a lot better without Honor’s nightmare of an aunt to hold you up. Wonder why she chose Lincolnshire to take a holiday? I’d have thought Bath would have been more suitable. Let your dear little Honor put on a pair of overalls and spoil her hands. Oh, let’s forget them. Think about us instead.’
‘I don’t care what the aunt’s reasons were, I hope she stays away for months. I can afford to fund her and I’ve told her so. Pol, stop that, it’s not fair. Heaven though. Look here, darling, I really do have to go.’ He gave her one last deep kiss.
‘Heaven?’
‘I’m going, Pol. Right now. Move.’
‘You’re not going anywhere.’
‘Oh, yes, I am.’
‘No, you’re not.’
‘I am.’
‘No… Oh, yes, Ben.’
* * *
Honor had never put her hair up without her aunt’s aid. While getting ready for the evening at Eugenie Bawden’s, she asked Eliza to do it for her.
‘Sorry, Miss,’ Eliza replied, hiding her umpteenth cigarette of the day behind her back. ‘I can put me hand up a cow and pull out a calf, and empty the privy bucket without spilling a drop of slops, but as for anything fancy like that, you’d best ask the boss. Or what about Archie? He’s got nice long hands, think he could do the job for ’ee right enough.’
‘Thank you, Eliza,’ Honor said, wondering what had provoked her to ask the woman, who wore her own hair in matted tats, to take part in anything refined and feminine. ‘I’ll manage. At least could you manage the hooks on my dress before you scuttle off somewhere?’
Honor was glad when Eliza left her cheerless, basically furnished bedroom and took her earthy smell with her. In her new dinner dress, of midnight-blue ninon over dove-grey satin, with silk red roses pinned just above the waist, she was trailing her waist-length hair through her fingers, deciding how to arrange it so she looked mature.
She heard Eliza stamping back up the stairs. Eliza burst through the door. ‘Miss! Miss!’
Honor swung round. ‘What is it, Eliza?’
‘Tis Archie. He’s outside in a bad way, coughing his guts up! Don’t like the look of him this time. You’d better send for the rector – reckons if Archie’s anything, he’s church.’
Honor interrupted Ben’s preparations for the evening out. They decided Archie didn’t need the services of the rector, but definitely the doctor. Eliza was despatched to fetch him.
Before the doctor arrived, Ben, with Cyril Trewin’s assistance, got Archie inside his room and on to his bed. ‘You need looking after. And stop apologizing, we don’t mind.’ Ben stilled Archie’s protests.
‘You shouldn’t have gone outside, Archie,’ Honor chided, having fetched a bowl of tepid water and a cloth for his fevered brow. ‘I’ll leave the men to undress you. I’ll make a hot-water bottle in case you get the shivers.’
‘Such a bother to you all,’ Archie said, puffing and gasping. ‘This will make you late for your evening out, Ben.’
‘Sit up against them pillows and let us do the worrying,’ came Cyril’s rough voice. ‘Dammit, mate, your politeness do get on my bleddy nerves at times.’
Ben pressed his hand to Archie’s shoulder. ‘Being late’s all the rage in some circles. Dr Holloway should be here soon.’
‘You saw his handkerchiefs?’ Dr Holloway whispered to Ben, after listening to Archie’s chest and prodding him in the appropriate places. He was aged about fifty, heavy of body and droopy of jowl, which made people surprised at how nimbly he could think and move. ‘Not good, not good at all, really. This fellow’s going to need some attentive nursing. Have you got someone who’s capable of that? Cleaning out spit basins? He’ll need plenty of fluids. A steamy atmosphere will help and there must be absolutely no smoking in this room. Take this, rub it on his back and chest morning and night. I’ve something in my bag that will help bring up the phlegm. I’ll come back tomorrow morning, if there’s no improvement I’ll see he’s admitted to the infirmary. Naval man, you say? Spent time in the drink? In my opinion his lungs haven’t been clear since swallowing a vast quantity of sea water.’
The doctor repeated his deliberations to Honor, and most of them to Archie, then he took his leave, his fee topped up with a hunk of ham.
‘Right then,’ Ben said. He was supporting Archie while he coughed and retched into one of his own handkerchiefs. ‘Cyril, you fetch the primus stove and a kettle, and a pan of water to hang from the fireplace. We’ll keep a steady flow of steam in here all night. Honor, fetch some basins, small bowls, that sort of thing, and lots of rags, which we’ll burn. Where’s Eliza? She can sit with Archie. Are you willing to take a turn, Cyril? I need to attend this party tonight, there will be some important contacts there who I need to see.’
‘I’ll stay,’ Cyril agreed. ‘And I’ll give him a whack or two on the back when he needs it, which looks like it’s goi
ng to be often. Just let me nip out and tell Albie where I’ll be.’
‘Ben, we can’t leave Archie to Eliza’s dubious mercies. I don’t trust her to be clean or not to smoke.’ Honor looked anxiously at the sick man wheezing on the bed. It saddened her to see burn scars on his exposed chest. ‘We should have carried him up to my room. There’s hardly space to turn round in here and it’s dark and gloomy.’
‘Never mind the room, it’s warm and dry, that’s all that matters. Who else do you suggest? We can hardly ask the Land Girls. There’s only Albie, he hasn’t got the sort of intelligence for this.’
‘I’ll stay, I haven’t got anyone important to see tonight.’ Honor had a suspicion Ben would spend more time with these ‘contacts’ he was expecting to see than with her. It would be humiliating and boring to be ushered into the company of a maidenly-aunt type, sitting about like one too many flowers in a garden verge. Emilia, now back to full health, would be there, but Honor didn’t fancy watching Ben ignoring her, and Alec causing an atmosphere. Suddenly, Honor wasn’t sure she liked Ben any more, and she wished she wasn’t wearing his half-hoop diamond ring.
‘But sweetheart, you were looking forward to your first proper social event in ages.’ He lifted up handfuls of her glorious hair. ‘You look beautiful, by the way, a nymph of the meadows. I’d be proud to introduce you as my fiancée. Your Aunt Florence is enjoying herself, it’s time you did too.’ And if Alec was going to show off Emilia, he wanted the same people to see he had done even better in that respect. Emilia was lovely in her own way, but she was lower class.
Honor wasn’t swayed. ‘I wouldn’t enjoy myself worrying about Archie. You go, Ben. There will be other occasions I can attend.’
‘Well, if you insist, darling.’ Ben was thinking about all the unrestricted fun he could have without her there. ‘Promise me you won’t overdo it? It’s hard work, caring for an invalid.’
‘If Em can manage with your grandmother and her pregnant sister-in-law, while being pregnant herself, I’m sure I can rise to the challenge.’ Honor’s voice had risen syllable by syllable, as if in answer to a criticism. ‘It will be worth it if Archie’s brought to lasting health. It’s no more than he deserves. Say hello to Em for me, properly. She’ll be nervous, her first time mixing in a different circle.’
‘As if she’d let anything like that faze her,’ Ben snorted. He didn’t bother to ask Honor why she was suddenly so touchy. She had called on Emilia the day after the fund-raising auction and stayed for hours. If Honor missed the old days, it was regrettable, but also… too bad.
* * *
Emilia also had a new dress for the occasion. Similar in colour and style to Honor’s, it was parted and layered cleverly at the front to accommodate her impending motherhood. Alec handed her fur-trimmed cloak to the maid, then wrapped his arms around her from behind, his hands over her bump. ‘Wonder if he knows what’s going on in there, all this noise and excitement?’
‘Of course, he does. Our baby’s the cleverest in the world. I think he’ll enjoy this rag-time music.’
‘Alec, dear heart, at last! You’ve been very naughty keeping away from me for so long.’
Emilia knew that the woman who had spoken, her long-gloved arm outstretched in a dramatic manner, had to be her husband’s old flame, Mrs Eugenie Bawden. Her hair, dyed black, as glossy as a raven’s wing, was parted in the centre, gently waved, with a chignon. She was painted like a moving picture star; diamonds and rubies flashed on her neck and wrists and swung from her ears. Healthy country looks and overstated elegance gazed at each other, but there was no instant dislike, no competitiveness.
Eugenie Bawden waved her jet cigarette holder in an exaggerated spiral. ‘Now I can see why. Good God, so this is your angel? Welcome to my house, m’dear. And your brother’s got himself engaged to a fairy doll. Couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw her at the Hetherton gel’s house recently. She’s a child, so sweet.
‘Aha! A Harvey in uniform. Well, come along in, Captain, don’t hide behind your brother and sister-in-law. Tristan, my dear, I’m honoured. Can’t say how delighted I am to see you again in one piece.’ Walking by placing her feet directly in front of each other, she wiggled up to Tristan and placed a loud kiss on his lips.
Emilia glanced at Alec, bemused. The woman was a riot, not Alec’s sort at all. She wasn’t young and she wasn’t beautiful.
‘She’s fun,’ he explained, putting his war fund contribution into a huge glass dish that already contained notes and cheques. ‘A woman who lifts the spirit. There’s nothing else to say about Eugenie. All you have to do tonight, angel, is to enjoy yourself. You won’t find anyone stuffy invited here.’
‘Drink up. Emilia, isn’t it?’ Polly Hetherton swept a glass of white wine into Emilia’s hand. ‘Good evening, Alec. You look good with all the farmyard muck scrubbed off. And you, Emilia, look positively gorgeous. Who did your hair? But, of course, you’ve got the services of the Rules’s former maid. She’s a gem. I was about to snap her up myself but Alec got to her first. Did you know he can be ruthless when he wants something? Of course, you do. You don’t look the sort who’d want a cissy.’
‘Are you keeping well, Mrs Hetherton?’ Emilia enquired, as if she didn’t care whether she received an answer. She had only seen the woman the day she and her brother had brought Ben home, and there had been too many distractions then to consider her. Emilia sensed her welcome wasn’t genuine. She glanced about for sign of Honor, and spotted Julian Andrews, sitting with a group of older men wearing natty suits and flamboyant bow ties. He bowed his head to her and she raised her hand in a polite wave.
‘Oh, I’m very well indeed.’ Polly’s eyes danced about the room, as if to convey she was already bored and would soon move on. ‘But I keep good company these days. Ben’s at my house every chance he gets.’
‘If you’ll excuse me, ladies,’ Alec smiled at Polly, but his eyes were widened in mulish irritation at the mention of his youngest brother. ‘I’ll keep Tris company.’ Tristan was talking to a stand of men in uniform.
‘Still not made it up, he and Ben?’ Polly asked, eyes shining in mischief.
‘You must know that if you see a lot of Ben,’ Emilia replied in a tone that told she would not be made fun of.
‘Well, I do. Everything, in fact.’ Polly sashayed away, leaving Emilia in no doubt as to her meaning.
Emilia was waiting for Ben when he arrived. She hardly gave him time to dispense with his overcoat and scarf before dragging him into a quiet comer.
He brushed at the place where her hand had been, looked down on her glittering eyes. ‘What’s got you seeing red?’
‘Where’s Honor?’
‘At home, her decision. Archie’s sick, she’s sitting with him. Well?’
‘You’ve been sleeping with that Hetherton woman, haven’t you?’
Ben laughed aloud, pulled his strong brows together and bent close enough for Emilia to feel his breath on her face. ‘Have I?’
‘Don’t play games, you rotten, two-faced, cheating piece of, of—’
‘Horse shit? How Billy and I used to laugh when you got angry like this. I still admire your passion.’ He brought his body close. ‘I enjoyed the time I had you. I think I’ll always rate it as one of the best experiences of my life. No one can ever wipe out the fact that it happened. Do you ever think about it, Emilia? I do, a lot. I’ll sleep with you any time you care to mention.’
His face was horrible, lecherous. Emilia felt he would soon be suffocating her, but she took in a slow easy breath. ‘I’ll tell Honor. I won’t let her spend the rest of her life with a lying, thoroughgoing bastard!’
‘And what would that achieve? She’d feel compelled to leave her only home. Where could she go? She’s got nothing. I promised to look after her and I will. She’ll have wealth and position one day, I’ll see to that. At least I respect Honor enough not to expect her to drop her drawers for me.’
At the same time Emilia slapped her hand across his
face, she brought her knee up in his groin. As Ben groaned in agony, clutching his delicate parts, he was hauled away from her. She was afraid it was Alec and there would be a fight, but it was the natty suit brigade, including Julian.
A thick-bodied, middle-aged man with slick hair, smoking a fat cigar, flashed large white teeth at her. ‘You’ve not got the experience yet to know when a lady doesn’t desire your attention, Ben, my son. You have my word, miss—’ he looked from Emilia’s swollen middle to her wedding ring – ‘I beg your pardon, Mrs, that he won’t bother you again.’
‘He certainly won’t!’ Emilia glared at Ben, still doubled over. ‘You listen to me, Ben Harvey. If you hurt Honor, I swear I’ll make you suffer.’ She stalked away.
‘Who was she?’ the man asked Ben, when he was able to stand up straight.
Ben wiped the tears from his eyes, tried and failed to make his voice sound normal. ‘My brother’s wife, the bitch!’
‘Best looking piece I’ve seen in a long, long time,’ the man drawled, licking his lips, which appeared perpetually greasy. ‘Poison on her tongue, a sting in her tail. I like a challenge. Might find myself in your little backwater one of these days. Speaking of which, now that whoring sister-in-law of yours is back, have you seen any sign of Bruce Ashley?’
‘Don’t be daft, Dougie.’ Ben used a cushion-framed mirror to straighten his tie. ‘When his sort ditches a woman they’re never seen again.’
Dougie clapped a hand on Ben’s shoulder. ‘I didn’t build up my little empire by being daft, Ben, my son. Ashley was hoping your brother would be killed in action, making Ursula a well-off widow. She’s back, and everything looks as one expects it to be, but Ashley was unusually attracted to the lovely Ursula. He might sniff round her again. If you get wind of him, let me know at once. He owes me and I want to collect.’ Dougie stuffed a stash of notes into Ben’s breast pocket. ‘Now, my son, I’m expecting a consignment two nights from now. Arrange for your man to meet mine, same place. Best cover I’ve got, your little farm. Come on, you can forget about having jollities with Mrs P. H. tonight. We’re having an all-nighter at cards.’
