Girls of the Great War

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Girls of the Great War Page 30

by Freda Lightfoot


  Opening her eyes and blinking back tears, Queenie whispered, ‘I always loved you too, darling.’

  Cecily felt choked with emotion and deeply moved by this, words she’d never heard her mother say before. Then with a little chuckle, she said, ‘Even though Merryn was your favourite child and you never allowed me to do anything I wished, whether it was performing on stage or marrying Ewan?’

  ‘You are a lovely, talented girl and I always feared I might lose you because of the difficulties in my life.’

  A glint of adoration was amazingly evident in her faded blue eyes and Cecily was struggling to decide how to respond to this astonishing remark when Nan came bustling in. She was carrying a tray bearing a small dish of soup, a bread roll and a cup of milk and gave Queenie a beaming smile. ‘Now, dear lady, here is a little supper I’ll be happy to help you eat and drink.’

  Cecily leapt up to allow Nan to take the armchair close to the bed. ‘Can you manage to cope on your own while I see to Josette?’

  ‘Don’t you worry,’ she whispered softly. ‘I’ll feed Queenie and make sure she doesn’t reach for any more rum or too many pills. Once you’ve seen to the little one, who’s in her playpen, do go and take a rest. It’s late and you must be tired.’

  Leaving Nan to sit beside Queenie and feed her, Cecily went off to bathe Josette, put her to bed and sing her a little song. She then lay upon her own bed, feeling exhausted but comforted and touched by the discussion she’d had with her mother. Why on earth had Queenie’s own mother treated her so badly? Not having bothered to undress, Cecily’s mind slipped back to her concern for Merryn, which she’d carefully made no mention of. What a long traumatic day it had been, not at all what she’d expected or hoped for. Her heart was hammering over the feared loss of her beloved sister as she drifted off to sleep. Where on earth could she be?

  Much to her relief, Boyd arrived around dawn. Having him here to help search for Merryn made her feel so much better, particularly as he wrapped his arms around her, keen to offer her comfort, support and proof of his love for her. Gently stroking his cheeks, she whispered her love for him too. They then sat down to discuss where they should look for Merryn, which was not easy to decide. When he’d consumed a quick breakfast of toast and jam and a mug of tea, he said, ‘Right, where do we start? I assume you’ve already searched this house?’

  ‘I have, twice.’

  ‘Then let’s give it a third investigation, just in case, before heading out across the seafront.’

  She moved diligently around the large house close by his side, searching every room, cupboard, wardrobe and closet, even looking under beds. They then went across to the seafront, along the harbour, round the Pier, up to the Hoe and various other possible places in town, looking beneath shrubs and trees, in pools and dressing rooms by the sea in case she’d collapsed there. Hours later they were back in the parlour, slumped in silence.

  ‘Where will we look next?’ Nan asked, handing them each a cup of coffee and looking deeply concerned. ‘I wish I could assist you in this search but feel the need to stay close to Queenie. She’s looking worse.’

  Cecily gave a weary sigh, a dark flow of unease sinking into her stomach. ‘I can’t think what we should do. I’ve looked everywhere, so many times. Yesterday, I even rang all the hospitals to check she hadn’t been taken in as a result of an injury. I dread to imagine that Merryn may have gone for a swim and drowned. Do you think I should call the police?’

  ‘We may have reached that stage,’ Boyd forlornly remarked.

  Silence fell as they all considered this possibility, then a few moments later Nan said, ‘I assume you’ve also checked the cellar.’

  ‘Good Lord, I’d forgotten all about that part of the house, never having been involved in working in it,’ Cecily said, jumping up.

  Boyd too leapt to his feet. ‘Where is it and how do we find the way down?’

  ‘It’s in the basement. The door to it is out in the scullery,’ Nan told him, before heading back upstairs with a tray of coffee and biscuits for Queenie.

  The two of them ran through the kitchen out to the scullery but when they found the door leading to the cellar, it was locked. ‘Where’s the key?’ Boyd asked.

  ‘It should be hooked up on this board but it isn’t,’ Cecily said, with a groan of irritation.

  ‘Why would this door be locked? Had I two legs I’d kick it open. Can we find a hammer or an axe?’

  ‘Those are kept down in the basement.’ Cecily ran back into the kitchen and returned with the poker. ‘Will this do the trick?’

  Grabbing it, Boyd bashed at the lock in the door several times until finally it broke. He pushed it open and carrying the lamp she’d also brought, Cecily followed him down the stone steps. Lifting it high in order to flash a light and look around the dark and gloomy cellar they saw nothing, save for a pile of logs and coal. ‘I’m not sure how big this cellar is, as it’s years since I’ve been down here. I remember it has more than one area, running quite a length beneath the house. Should I go and fetch another lamp so that we can see a little better?’ Cecily asked.

  ‘That might be a good idea. I’ll look into this next room.’

  As she turned to hurry back upstairs to fetch one, some instinct within her made her pause and call out in her loud singing voice: ‘Merryn darling, are you by any chance here? I’ve been searching our “Home Sweet Home” for you since early yesterday.’

  It was then that she heard a muffled cry.

  They found her in the far corner of the next part of the cellar, her wrists tied to a water pipe and a scarf fastened around her mouth. Traumatised at finding her locked in this dark freezing cellar and at the sight of bruises marking her face, her eyes quite black with trails of blood upon her neck, Cecily tenderly removed the scarf while Boyd released her wrists from the rope.

  ‘How long have you been down here, and who tied you up? Could it have been the burglars who have stolen many of our pictures, vases and other items?’

  Shaking her head, Merryn winced at the pain this caused her. ‘I’ve no memory of when or how I was brought down here. More likely it was not burglars who have stolen our goods, but the same dreadful man who beat me to a pulp.’

  ‘Oh no, who was that, lovey?’ Cecily quietly asked, fearing she knew the answer to this question, but was nervously wary of declaring she suspected her sister’s husband to be the man responsible.

  Seeing the tears in Merryn’s eyes and how she was shaking with cold, Boyd halted the conversation. ‘Let me carry you upstairs, dear girl. Then when you’ve warmed up and recovered a little, you can tell us what happened in your own time.’

  It was an hour later after she’d bathed and been fed by Nan that Merryn sat on the sofa in the parlour clad in her dressing gown. They all gathered round to listen to her story and she told them what she’d seen the night she’d gone to collect Queenie’s supper tray. This shocked them all, save for Cecily.

  ‘I always feared that might happen, but not after you married him, darling.’

  ‘I wish I’d listened to your suspicions, Cecily, when you saw them kissing. We were always fully aware of Queenie’s passion for young men, so I assumed she was simply flirting with him. When I accused her of this betrayal, she did admit to their having an affair, so cannot claim to be innocent. Neither can Johnny. He persisted in having sex with her, paying no attention to the fact we were married, and she succumbed to that, believing she hadn’t much time left in her life. In recent weeks because of her ill health, he apparently fed Queenie too many pills and could actually have raped her most nights, as she claimed to be unconscious and no longer interested in sex. But she is still fond of him.’

  Merryn went on to describe the threats her husband had made upon her, as a consequence of what she’d witnessed. ‘Johnny has controlled my life far more greatly than I ever expected, turning out to be a most domineering man. He finally threatened that he would not allow me to keep my child if I did not agree to remain his wif
e and provide him with the fortune he believes our family possesses. He has always been obsessed with robbing Queenie of her money. I explained that she has little left and told him our marriage was over. That’s when he struck and beat me.’

  ‘Oh, lovey, what a dreadful man he’s turned out to be. He no doubt resented the lack of cash available and also stole those precious items from the house,’ Cecily said, engulfed in fury over his controlling attitude and greed.

  ‘I expect he did. How fortunate I was that you all arrived to help Queenie, and me too,’ Merryn whispered.

  Feeling compassion for her beloved sister, Cecily sat holding her hand while Boyd went off to call the police. Two policemen arrived fairly shortly to also listen to Merryn’s tale, stating that tying her up in the cellar could well have resulted in her dying of injury or starvation had her family not arrived and found her in time. They took her to the local hospital for a doctor to examine her, and then went in search of her offending husband. Cecily seriously hoped they’d find that bastard and lock him up.

  She accompanied her sister and although Merryn did have a badly bruised spine, which was alarming, there was no serious damage to her heart or lungs. The doctor placed an ice pack on her back, explaining this would help to reduce the swelling. Her legs were thankfully still moving so she was in no danger of paralysis in spite of the beating she’d received.

  ‘Thank God you will not end up confined to a wheelchair as many soldiers have, lovey,’ Cecily said, giving her a warm hug.

  The doctor informed them that it might take some time for her to slowly recover, and recommended that she must take some rest, then engage in gentle exercise to help her muscles improve. Something Cecily would be happy to help her achieve.

  When they returned home later that evening and Cecily settled Merryn in bed, they learned from Boyd that the police had found Johnny selling goods on a market here in Plymouth. He had then been arrested for theft, plus the assault and attempted murder of his wife. Thank goodness for that, Cecily thought, exactly what he deserved. Feeling exhausted they all retired, Boyd to a spare room on the top floor and Cecily tactfully not joining him. First thing the next morning she checked Queenie, who was still deeply asleep, then going down to join everyone for breakfast, carefully explained to Boyd that she couldn’t contemplate going off to work on another cruise with him just yet, and how she hoped her mother might recover.

  ‘Maybe we could later,’ she remarked shyly.

  ‘I’m quite happy to wait and hope for that too,’ he said, giving her a gentle smile.

  Nan frowned, looking displeased by the news they’d been working together on board a cruise ship. ‘I confess that although I happily came to assist Queenie when you told me she was ill, I was startled to learn that you’d chosen to work with Cecily instead of your mother, Boyd. You’d make a good assistant at running her guest house, and it would be a much better project for you.’

  ‘It would not,’ he laughed. ‘I love my darling mum and I’m sure you’re brilliant at helping her, Aunty, but that job would not work for me. And because of this issue over Merryn, I haven’t had time to tell her much about this cruise entertainment Cecily and I are involved in.’

  ‘It’s just as well you haven’t. My sister would strongly disapprove of what you are doing. Please hand in your resignation and move to Bournemouth.’

  Greatly puzzled by Nan’s disapproving attitude and noticing how Boyd was looking equally frustrated, his face tight with distress, Cecily said, ‘Why would she disapprove? I told Queenie about the success of our entertaining and how happy we are working together, and she was delighted to hear this. Although I didn’t risk upsetting her by speaking of your disaster, Merryn.’

  ‘That’s very sensible,’ her sister agreed. ‘And despite what she’s foolishly done, I still love her.’

  Cecily smiled. ‘I love her too. Do come upstairs to say hello, Boyd. Mama has said she would like to meet my musical partner.’

  ‘That would not be at all appropriate,’ Nan remarked sternly. ‘Queenie is still in something of a comatose state and will not be with us for much longer.’

  Cecily gently patted her shoulder. ‘Don’t fret. We need to spend whatever time she has left with her. She has been most kind to me recently and if she is awake, I’m happy to do as she asked and introduce her to Boyd. Why would I not wish to make her happy before she departs this world?’

  Nan bustled behind them as they all went upstairs, looking oddly disconcerted. Stroking Queenie’s hair and giving her a kiss, Cecily noticed how ragged her breathing sounded, sometimes as if it had ceased altogether. Greatly relieved when she saw her tired eyes open, Cecily smiled as Merryn instantly assured her mother not to be concerned about the sorry state she was in, as she quickly described what had happened. ‘Do be aware I have forgiven you, although not my husband. He’s now gone.’

  Stroking her daughter’s cheek, Queenie smiled. ‘I’m so glad, darling. He is a dreadful man.’

  With tears in her eyes, Merryn nodded. ‘He is indeed. I love you, Mama.’

  As her sister stepped back, Cecily took hold of Queenie’s hand to give it a gentle squeeze, pleased to see she was still wearing her diamond ring. ‘I’ve brought my friend to meet you, as requested, Mama.’

  Gazing up at Boyd in wonder, she said, ‘Oh, I know you, dear boy, having seen a photo of you.’ Then lifting her arms, she drew him close with a radiant smile. ‘How wonderful to see you at last. What a lovely young man you are, and my darling son.’

  THIRTY-FIVE

  SHOCK EXPLODED within Cecily and seeing how Boyd jolted, looking equally astounded, she gave a little frown. ‘I assume you are suggesting he could become your son-in-law, Mama.’ It was then that she heard an odd rasping breath followed by complete silence, Queenie’s eyes frozen wide open. Stepping forward, Nan slid them closed and informed her daughters that their mother had sadly passed away.

  ‘Oh no, are you sure she’s gone, Nan?’

  ‘I’m afraid so, my dears.’

  The loss of her, considering what she’d just said, was too dreadful to contemplate. Cecily heard Merryn start to weep and took hold of her hand, finding a prickle of tears flood her own eyes, both experiencing grief for their loss. ‘When I was with her last night, Mama said how she loved me and had feared she might lose me because of the difficulties in her life. I was deeply moved by that if not properly understanding a word of what she said.’

  ‘She has always kept her past a secret. Now we’ll never find out anything, let alone who our father was. That’s a reality we’ll have to live with. Thank goodness we were here with her when she departed,’ Merryn said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

  ‘But calling Boyd her son was surely simply a joke, assuming we’d marry. Why would she say such a thing and then slip away?’ Glancing up at Boyd, she saw that he was seated on a chair some distance away, rubbing his head, his face a picture of agony. ‘You didn’t believe what she said, did you, Boyd?’

  Looking up at her, he appeared ashen. ‘When my father was dying of that dreadful Spanish flu, he whispered a sad goodbye, saying he loved me as though I truly were his son. Naturally, I was astounded by this remark and asked him to explain what he meant by that. He confessed that I was adopted, Mum apparently unable to have a baby of her own. Then realising he should not have revealed this information, as it would upset her, he begged me to say nothing on the subject.’

  Stunned by this remark, Cecily stared at him in silence, her heart pounding in panic, feeling desperately traumatised and dreading to think that what her mother had said could be true.

  ‘Did you know this fact, Aunty?’ he asked.

  When Nan gave no immediate response, he asked a further, more obvious question. ‘If I was indeed adopted, do you by any chance know who my natural birth parents were? I do need to know the answer to that, as does Cecily. Is Queenie my mother as well as hers? Or was she simply assuming we are to be married, as Cecily suggested?’

  Clearing h
er throat, Nan said, ‘She gave birth to you in 1894 when she’d just turned seventeen.’ It was then that Boyd got up and walked out of the door.

  The funeral took place a few days later. Boyd attended but was entirely silent, his glorious velvet brown eyes looking deeply distressed and never meeting Cecily’s. Cecily felt wracked with pain. Why on earth did something always go wrong whenever she developed affection for a man? She would love Boyd forever. Their life together this last twelve months or more had been wonderful and exciting, a couple who felt they belonged together. Now she’d discovered the worst possible news – that he was her half-brother. They could have a different father but apparently the same mother, and they’d made love countless times, which meant they were guilty of incest. Cecily felt a strong desire to run away and hide.

  Queenie had always been entirely focused upon her own stardom and reputation, so it was not at all surprising that she’d blocked her son out of her mind and never mentioned his existence. Heaven knows who his father was or whether Queenie could even remember his name, having had several lovers throughout her entire life. She’d never been an easy mother, in view of problems in her life she’d never disclosed, even though she’d thankfully proved her love for Cecily before she died, and had always been most sympathetic about the losses she’d suffered. Now she’d lost Boyd too.

  Once it was over and they sat in the dining room eating a light lunch, Nan made an announcement. ‘You are aware that I have known Queenie since she was a young girl. Back then, her name was Martha. There were many facts I was ordered not to reveal throughout her life. Now that she has left this world, I am permitted to tell you everything I know. She did make that clear to me. I can’t guarantee it will resolve everything, but I will do my best to explain what I can.’

 

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