The Colours of Love

by Rita Bradshaw

Did she? Did she believe him? she asked herself, staring into the undeniably handsome face. If Monty had turned up on the doorstep a little while after Joy had been born, saying what he was saying now, she would have taken him back with open arms, she knew that. She would have been delirious with relief and happiness. But now? It was different. She was different.

  ‘You mentioned Theobald. You clearly have some contact with him, then?’ she said, aware that she was prevaricating about the main issue and the fact that she didn’t trust him. Because she didn’t, she thought with a dart of shock. Not at all.

  In view of her earlier comments, Monty was aware she might not like his reply, but she had to know the situation. Carefully he said, ‘I work for him, Esther. My parents were killed when a bomb dropped on the London house, and it transpired they had huge debts, so there was nothing left after the creditors had been paid and everything was settled. Your father – Theobald,’ he corrected swiftly, ‘offered me a job, as I was family.’

  Her face expressed her amazement. Monty hadn’t liked Theobald any more than she had, and after the way her so-called father had treated herself and Joy, she would have thought that would have been enough for Monty to have nothing more to do with him, if he did really still love her. As for the ‘family’ comment, Theobald did nothing out of the goodness of his heart. Stiffly she said, ‘I gather the Grant name still opens doors for him?’ She wasn’t stupid, and he needn’t treat her as though she was.

  Monty shifted uncomfortably. ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘And you are happy to work for him? Knowing what he is really like – how foul he is?’

  ‘I didn’t really have much of a choice.’

  ‘Everyone has a choice, Monty, so don’t give me that.’

  His face was burning now, the colour suffusing it almost scarlet. ‘I’ve explained why.’

  ‘Yes, you have.’ For the first time since he had come into her life she was seeing Monty without rose-coloured glasses. Why had she never noticed the weakness in his mouth, she asked herself, or how much he resembled his father? She had always wondered why Hubert hadn’t stood up to Clarissa, but now she saw the flaw that had been in the father was in the son. And if Hubert hadn’t been capable of wearing the metaphorical trousers in the relationship, maybe Clarissa had been forced to put them on and assume the role?

  ‘I’m your husband, Esther, and Joy’s father.’ Monty couldn’t believe what was happening. He had thought that, after some initial tears, she would fall on his neck in grateful happiness. He was offering her everything – support, stability, his name and protection – and her future would be secure. Couldn’t she see that? And she loved him. He knew she still loved him. She had been crazy about him. ‘Don’t you want us to be a family?’ he said softly. ‘As it was meant to be?’

  She looked at him for a long moment before saying, with a touch of sadness, ‘No, Monty, I don’t.’

  He felt the colour flooding his face again. ‘You don’t mean that. I know I hurt you and I’m sorry, but I’ve told you: it was a combination of the war and shock and—’

  ‘Your mother.’ Her chin had risen. ‘Don’t forget your mother, in your excuses. But she’s not to blame, not really.’

  He closed his eyes for a second, lowering his head and turning it from side to side, before looking at her again. ‘You need time, I understand that. Once you have thought about this, you will see it is the best thing for all of us.’

  There was a long pause and, when she made no reply, he said, ‘I love you, Esther, and I know you love me.’

  She shook her head slowly. ‘No, Monty, I don’t. My love took a while to die, I admit that, but die it has.’

  ‘I will never believe that. You want to punish me.’

  ‘Strangely, no.’ She stood up, twisting her hands together before realizing what she was doing and bringing them to her sides. ‘We’re different people now, you must see that?’

  ‘I am the same.’

  ‘Then I can only say I didn’t know the real you when we got married.’

  ‘I’m not going to give up, Esther. You are my wife and your place is at my side, living the life you were born into, rather than existing in this’ – his nose wrinkled – ‘this pigsty. It’s one thing to do your bit for the war effort, but now . . . ’

  How could she have thought she loved him? How could she have made such a terrible mistake? ‘Please leave, Monty.’

  He stood up, rubbing his scarred hand tightly along his jawbone. For a moment she felt a dart of pity, before she told herself not to weaken. His suffering didn’t alter who he was.

  ‘I shall come back, Esther.’

  ‘I would prefer you not to. In fact’ – she took a deep breath – ‘I would like a divorce, Monty, now that the war is over.’

  His eyes narrowed and his voice was very soft. ‘No.’

  Esther blinked. For a moment the look on his face reminded her of Theobald. It was this that made her say, ‘Does he know you’re here? Theobald? Did you tell him you were coming to see me?’ Was he behind Monty’s change of heart?

  Monty turned from her and walked to the door, opening it and then facing her again. ‘He knows. Furthermore, he’s prepared to let bygones be bygones.’ He didn’t add that Theobald’s take on the matter was that, if Esther came back into the fold and acted the good wife, it would do the business no harm; and the child could be kept in the background until she was shipped off to a boarding school somewhere in the south.

  ‘How big of him,’ said Esther, cuttingly.

  ‘You seem to forget that Harriet did him a great wrong when she deceived him. He was in shock – we all were – when the truth came out. You can’t blame him for reacting the way he did.’

  ‘Can’t I?’

  She stared at him, and it was his eyes that fell away from hers as he muttered, ‘I thought you would be more reasonable.’

  ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you.’

  Monty took a deep breath. ‘I don’t want to leave on bad terms. Please think over what I have said, and most of all that I love you. I have always loved you, and I will always love you. I won’t give you a divorce, Esther, not feeling the way I do. I want to be clear about that. I want you back as my wife, and I won’t stop until you are at my side, where you belong.’ His sheer audacity was breathtaking, and something of what she was feeling must have shown in her face because he murmured, ‘I know, I know. I failed you. But I’ll make it up to you. Remember how happy we were? The life we’d planned to have together? It can still happen. I’ll fight to make it happen.’

  When she said nothing, he continued gently, ‘Goodbye for now, my darling,’ stepping outside and shutting the door behind him.

  Esther stood quite still for a moment or two and then walked across the room and shot the bolts at the top and bottom of the door. They were stiff and rusty, rarely having been used, and she caught her finger on one of them. She looked at the spot of blood that had formed, and for a moment she wanted to cry. He had left her heart bleeding two years ago and, in spite of his fancy words, he seemed almost oblivious to how much he had hurt her then. At bottom, he still felt that he was completely justified.

  Walking back to her chair, she sank down, her whole body trembling with reaction. She sat there for long minutes, her head in her hands, but after a while she straightened. She was tired, so tired, but one thing was certain in her weary mind. It was over. She would never go back to him and she didn’t want Monty within a hundred miles of Joy, although that might prove more difficult, because she believed him when he said he would fight. If the future had seemed an uphill struggle before, suddenly it looked a whole lot worse. But she wouldn’t waver. The Bible said that a house divided against itself would fall, and that’s what any home with Monty would be: divided and just waiting to fall.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Theobald’s hard, jet-black eyes were fixed on his son-in-law. Monty had just helped himself to ham and eggs from the covered dishes on the sideboard and had sat down at t
he breakfast table. When he began to eat without speaking, Theobald barked one word: ‘Well?’

  Monty raised his eyes, swallowing the food in his mouth before he said, ‘I presume you’re enquiring how I got on yesterday?’ The reply was cool, but there was no trace of irritation at his father-in-law’s manner in Monty’s voice, even though inwardly it irked him.

  ‘Of course, what else? You were damned late back, weren’t you? I didn’t get to bed till gone three, and you weren’t in then.’

  ‘Esther had gone out for the day when I got to the farm, so I had to wait until she returned.’

  ‘So she was there, then? You found her?’

  ‘Yes, I found her and the child.’

  ‘And?’ Theobald leaned forward, his body radiating impatience.

  Monty shrugged. ‘I’ve made contact.’

  ‘You’ve made contact?’ Theobald’s voice had risen. ‘What the hell does that mean: you’ve made contact? Did you spell out the benchmarks when she comes back, because I’ll expect her to toe the line.’ There wasn’t a trace of doubt in his mind that Esther would seize the opportunity to resume her position in the family. ‘She’ll do as she’s told, under my roof.’

  ‘It wasn’t like that.’ Monty took a sip of his coffee.

  ‘Give me strength – it’s like pulling hen’s teeth. Are you doing this on purpose, to spoil my breakfast?’

  ‘She told me she wants a divorce. Is that clear enough?’

  Theobald sat back in his chair, let out a long, irritable sigh and said, ‘All right, let’s have it all. Word-for-word.’

  And Monty gave it all to him, word-for-word, including his wife’s comments about Theobald. When he had finished speaking there was silence for a moment or two. He could see that Theobald was furious, for he had flushed a deep puce, and in spite of his own chagrin and deep disappointment, Monty admitted to feeling a certain satisfaction at his father-in-law’s vexation. Since leaving the air force and coming to live at the house, there had been many occasions when he had almost decided to throw in the towel and tell Theobald what he really thought of him; but the fact that he knew he was ‘living in clover’, as his air-force pals would call it, had stilled his tongue. But really, he asked himself now for the umpteenth time, was it worth it? The more he’d learned about Theobald, the more he’d begun to despise and loathe him – and himself. He had allowed himself to be bought, he knew that, and any time he didn’t jump as high as Theobald told him to, his father-in-law dangled the carrot of the wealth Monty would inherit in the future. When he had objected to a particularly blatant bribe that Theobald was offering a supposedly righteous pillar of the community recently, Monty had been told to shut up or clear out. Of course he had done the former, as Theobald had known he would, and when a similar occasion had occurred a few days later, he had followed orders once again.

  But it wasn’t just Theobald’s dubious business dealings that made him feel dirty, Monty thought now. Within a short while of living at the house, he had been woken one night by shrieking. Startled out of a deep sleep, he’d sat for a minute or two wondering if he had dreamed it, because the night was quiet again, but then a muffled scream had drawn him out of bed and onto the landing. Armed with a poker from the fireplace in his bedroom, he had crept to the stairs that led down to the floor below, where Theobald’s suite of rooms was. He had been genuinely concerned that some ne’er-do-well had got into the house and attacked his father-in-law. Quite what had made him hesitate outside the door to Theobald’s rooms, he didn’t know. Some sixth sense perhaps. As he’d stood there, his ear pressed to the door, he’d distinctly heard Theobald’s deep baritone laugh and then a female voice, sounding urgent and distressed, although he couldn’t make out the words.

  Despite knowing that he should leave well alone and go back to bed – whatever was happening inside, Monty felt satisfied Theobald wasn’t in danger – he’d stealthily tried the handle of the door instead. It had opened and he’d pushed it so that he could hear through the crack. The voices had been clearer now. The female was saying, ‘You’re too rough. Look at her, she’s bleedin’. I didn’t bring her along for you to do this.’

  Someone else was crying in the background, low muffled sobs, and then his father-in-law had growled, ‘For crying out loud, don’t make such a fuss. Look, I’ll give you both double, all right? Now that’s fair. Untie her, and we’ll get down to the real business.’

  Monty had often wished since then that he hadn’t opened the door further, so that he could see into the room. The sight that had met his eyes was burned into his mind now. A young girl, no more than eleven or twelve years old, was spreadeagled on Theobald’s bed, face-down, with ropes securing her wrists and ankles. Blood was visible from the weals marking the naked white body, and a second girl, just a year or two older, was kneeling beside the bed, pulling at the cords securing the first girl. Theobald, as naked as the day he was born, was watching them, the whip he was holding dangling from one hand.

  Monty had stopped breathing. He knew he’d stopped breathing because, when he had to take a breath, it had come in a gasp that had alerted the occupants of the room to his presence. As he had met his father-in-law’s eyes, panic had made him bang the door shut and hightail it back to his quarters. When he’d reached his room he’d sat for some minutes on the edge of the bed, waiting for Theobald to storm in. But he hadn’t.

  The next morning Monty hadn’t known what to expect, but the last thing he’d imagined was Theobald behaving perfectly normally when he came down to breakfast. There was no sign of the girls; presumably they had been packed off to wherever they had come from. And so the two of them had sat and eaten their meal, Theobald seemingly engrossed in his newspaper. But just before he had risen from the table, his father-in-law had put down his paper and said, ‘You’re welcome to join me for some entertainment, Monty. You don’t have to creep about the house spying on me. A young man like you has his needs, I know that.’

  ‘I beg your p-pardon?’ He’d hated himself for stuttering.

  ‘Night recreation. Tell me the sort of thing that tickles your fancy, and I’ll arrange it. We’re both men of the world.’

  He had stared at Theobald. Instead of the well-dressed individual in front of him, he’d seen in his mind’s eye a swarthy body, liberally covered in hair like an animal. And the obscene erection. Stammering even more, he’d got out, ‘I–I didn’t mean to p-pry. I heard something – n-noises.’

  The gimlet eyes hadn’t left his face. ‘Aye, well, if you hear anything more, you’ll know what it is, won’t you, lad? I’ve made the decision that in future I’m having my entertainment brought to the house. More private, that way.’

  He’d swallowed hard. ‘Those girls?’

  ‘There’s a woman who supplies me,’ Theobald said shortly.

  When his father-in-law had left the table without further conversation, Monty had sat staring after him for a long time. It was then that he should have packed his bags and left this house, where the very air was contaminated by its owner, he thought now. But he hadn’t. He had stayed, and in so doing had shut his ears to sounds in the night, along with many other things that went on.

  Theobald surprised him when he spoke now. Instead of the tirade of curses and swearing Monty had expected, his father-in-law said softly, ‘She always did have spirit. I used to think she got it from me, as Harriet was a spineless individual, but no matter. And you saw the child, you say? What’s she like? Black as the ace of spades?’

  For the first time since his daughter had been born, Monty felt a surge of defensiveness on her behalf. Coldly he said, ‘Actually, she’s lovely. Beautiful in fact, with the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen and golden-brown curls.’

  Theobald’s eyes narrowed. ‘So she looks white?’ That would make things easier all round.

  Monty hesitated. ‘No, no, she doesn’t. Her skin is too dark for that.’

  ‘So the problem remains? Still, it doesn’t have to be broadcast. There are plenty of
good boarding schools where the girl would be well treated, and Esther could visit her whenever circumstances allowed. Did you explain that to her?’

  ‘We never got that far. I told you, she has no intention of coming back. She was adamant in that regard.’

  ‘Oh, she’ll come back, if I’ve a mind for her to, lad. Don’t you fret about that. Certain of our associates would drop us quicker than a dose of salts, if divorce was mentioned – mainstays of the church, some of ’em. They’re up in arms about this modern wave of divorce that the war has caused, as it is, pious lot.’

  Monty kept his face blank with some effort. Theobald was a lecher of the worst kind, and most of his business dealings were questionable, to say the least; and yet to those associates that he’d mentioned he acted as though he was as pure as the driven snow. Furthermore Theobald insisted that Monty accompany him each Sunday to the parish church, where his father-in-law sat as though butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, as holy as you like. Since he had got to know Theobald better, Monty had found himself glancing round at people and wondering what they were really like under the outward veneer – something that had never crossed his mind before.

  Theobald tugged at his brocade waistcoat, which had been fitted to disguise the enormity of his protruding stomach, and glared at Monty. Esther’s husband was a pathetic excuse of a man and as weak as dishwater, and yet, he supposed, that worked to his advantage on a day-to-day basis. ‘See to it you tell her what’s what, when you go back there. Women are like horses: they need a firm hand, and to know who is in control. Do you understand me?’ He paused on the threshold of the room. ‘When are you going back to the farm, by the way?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Well, make it soon. I’ve got enough on my plate, with the war finished and one or two things up in the air. It won’t be long before the Japanese surrender an’ all, and everything will go haywire, you mark my words. I keep my ear to the ground; I know what’s going on, and people don’t want to go back to like it was before the war, with the dole, the means test, unemployment marches, and the like. The business will need to diversify, because I wouldn’t be surprised if Labour get in when there’s an election.’