A Daughter's Dream

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A Daughter's Dream Page 8

by Cathy Sharp


  It was my only evening dress but I didn’t tell Alan that. If Mary continued to invite me to her parties I should have to buy myself another gown.

  Paul came up to me when the dance ended. He looked a bit sheepish as he asked if I would dance with him.

  ‘I owe you an apology,’ he said when I hesitated.

  ‘Yes, you do – but I might forgive you if you promise not to do it again.’

  ‘Next time I’ll make sure you want to be kissed,’ he said and grinned in the way that made him so attractive. ‘I’m a moody devil, Amy, but pretty harmless. I might snatch a kiss from you, but I wouldn’t hurt you. I give you my word.’

  ‘I didn’t think you would. I wasn’t frightened of you, Paul – but I’m not free to carry on a flirtation. I haven’t got a ring because my boyfriend is saving for our house, but I am more or less engaged. We are going to marry as soon as he can afford it.’

  ‘Yes, Mary told me.’ He sighed deeply. ‘Your fiancé is a lucky chap, Amy. Had things been different I might have tried to cut him out, but …’

  ‘Is something bothering you, Paul?’ I saw the way his eyes had clouded. Once again I sensed that something was haunting him, never letting him be entirely free.

  ‘Nothing that either you or I can cure.’ He smiled oddly. ‘Let’s enjoy ourselves, shall we? Seize the day, as they say – or evening, rather.’

  The shadows in Paul’s eyes made me wonder what secret caused him such pain, but in another moment the thought was lost as Jane walked in. She was soaked to the skin, her hair and clothes streaked with mud, and her face scratched. She looked as if she might have been attacked and Millie screamed at the sight of her.

  ‘Jane! What happened?’

  Everyone stopped dancing and looked at her.

  ‘Good God!’ Harry exclaimed. ‘What happened to you?

  ‘I went for a walk by the river and fell in. Not that you would care. None of you would have turned a hair if I had drowned.’

  A shocked silence followed her bitter words, and then her brother caught her by the arm and marched her from the room. We could hear them arguing as they went upstairs.

  ‘Do you think we should send for a doctor?’ Mary asked no one in particular.

  ‘I doubt she needs one,’ Paul said. ‘I imagine that was another of Jane’s attempts to draw attention to herself. She probably threw herself in deliberately.’

  ‘Paul!’ Mary cried. ‘Don’t be so mean about poor Jane. I’ll go upstairs and see how she is.’

  ‘Trust Jane to do something silly,’ Alan said. ‘I suppose that puts paid to the evening. Anyone fancy a nightcap? What about you, Paul? I think there’s a billiards table somewhere.’

  ‘Yes, I’ll show you. Excuse us, ladies.’

  Millie looked at me as they went out.

  ‘What a fright Jane must have had. Shall we go up now? Or do you want to watch the men play? They would probably rather we didn’t.’

  ‘Then we shan’t,’ I said. ‘If you don’t mind, I think I shall go up. I have something I need to do before I go to bed.’

  We parted at the top of the stairs. I wasn’t in the least tired, even though it had been a long and eventful day.

  Getting out my book of sketches, I looked through it with a critical eye. Why did Mary’s father want to see my designs? Would he insist on approving them before she ordered anything else?

  I was just putting my folder away when Mary knocked and then entered my room.

  ‘Jane is in a dreadful mood, but I don’t think she’s really hurt. Fortunately she can swim and the river is shallow where she slipped in. I suppose it was an awful shock for her, falling in the water like that. I can’t imagine why she wanted to walk by the river alone.’

  ‘She was upset. She heard something Paul said about her.’

  ‘Oh …’ Mary looked as if she understood. ‘Paul doesn’t much like her, does he?’

  ‘Not very much. She was in the garden and the conservatory door was wide open. I think she heard, though I’m not sure how much. He was rather rude about her playing the piano.’

  ‘He would be. Paul is a perfectionist himself.’

  ‘And cruel. He doesn’t seem to care what he says.’

  ‘Paul can be very sharp – but he’s usually sorry afterwards. He didn’t mean Jane to hear.’

  ‘No, I am sure he didn’t – but he still shouldn’t have said what he did about her. It wasn’t nice.’

  ‘Paul isn’t nice.’ Mary gave me a teasing smile. ‘I think Alan is getting a crush on you.’

  ‘Surely not! He is just being friendly.’

  ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you. He’s not as wealthy as my father, but he’s quite a good catch.’

  ‘I’m more or less engaged. Besides, my father has money. I don’t need a rich husband.’

  ‘I didn’t realize that.’ Mary looked curious. ‘You’ve never mentioned it before, Amy.’

  ‘Well, there wasn’t any reason to. Dad isn’t as rich as your father, but he has enough. He owns quite a bit of property and various businesses.’

  ‘You’ve got two brothers, haven’t you?’ Mary looked thoughtful. ‘You’re not an heiress or anything?’

  ‘No, of course not. I shall get a good wedding present, but that’s all.’

  ‘Paul has expensive tastes. I don’t suppose you’ll get enough to make it worth his while to marry you.’

  ‘Mary!’

  She laughed at my shocked expression. ‘I’m thinking like Aunt Emily. Money is everything in some circles. Paul won’t marry without money, Amy.’

  ‘Paul can do whatever he likes. I’m going to marry Matthew.’

  ‘Jane thinks you want Paul.’

  ‘Then Jane is wrong.’

  ‘Good.’ Mary had a look of her father about her at that moment. ‘Paul is mine. We might not get married, but he’s mine until I let him go.’

  ‘He certainly isn’t mine. Much too moody!’

  Mary laughed. ‘That’s all right then.’

  ‘Did you know your father is here?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve been told.’ Her smile vanished. ‘I wish he hadn’t come. I shall tell him to stay out of our way.’

  ‘He wants to see my designs.’

  ‘I hope he isn’t going to interfere.’

  ‘We shall have to show him.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ she said sulkily. ‘But he has no idea of what I like and I shall tell him to leave us alone.’

  It was a while before I could sleep that evening. I went to sit on the window seat, looking out at the gardens. The moon was quite bright, turning everything it touched to silver. I saw a man leave the house and begin to walk across the lawns.

  I knew at once that it was Paul. Obviously he could not sleep either. I believed he was deeply disturbed about something; it haunted him and was responsible for his moods. Mary had thought it was the war that had made him this way, and perhaps that was true. I knew that a lot of men had been scarred by the terrible things they had seen during the war. And yet I felt it was something else, something more personal that made Paul want to be alone so often.

  I had particularly noticed his hands that evening. There were no scars, nothing to prevent him from playing the piano if he wished. If he had scars they must be inside, where no one could see them.

  I got up from the window seat and went to bed. I must not let Paul and his secrets turn into an obsession.

  Mary and I had breakfast together in the conservatory. No one else had appeared yet and we were able to spread out the designs at one end of the table, passing them back and forth as we discussed the ones that Mary liked best.

  ‘This would be lovely in pale blue,’ she said. ‘And this is beautiful, Amy. I should like both of them – and that afternoon dress you showed me earlier.’

  In all she picked six gowns; two for evening, two for afternoons, one for an informal party and one for mornings. Several of them were the more relaxed style I favoured, simple and elegant with just a touch
of embroidery to make them individual.

  ‘I think that should keep your aunt’s people busy for a while,’ she said with a satisfied smile.

  ‘May I have a look now?’

  We turned as Mr Maitland entered, Mary’s smiled fading as she saw him. My heart raced. Would he say that his daughter could not buy so many gowns from us?

  ‘Of course, sir,’ I replied, and passed the folder to him. I had marked the gowns Mary had chosen so it was easy for him to pick them out. He studied them carefully, then went on to the others. At last he closed the folder and returned it to me.

  ‘You have talent, Miss Robinson. I congratulate you – and you, Mary, for having the eye to see what you’ve found here. These are original and exciting.’ He turned his gaze on me. ‘You are wasting your time working as a shop girl, Miss Robinson. You should be designing gowns for discerning clients full-time.’

  ‘I don’t think my aunt would want to go into anything like that.’

  ‘There are other ways. The right backer could set you on the path to fame and fortune. I am sure I know someone who could help.’

  ‘Daddy!’ Mary’s voice was sharp, angry. ‘Leave Amy alone. I found her. She’s mine, not yours.’

  I wasn’t sure I liked being claimed as anyone’s property, but I was fascinated by the clash of wills between father and daughter. I had always thought of Mary as being shy and a little unsure of herself, but at this moment she might have been a tigress defending her young. Her eyes flashed with anger and her father was clearly influenced by her show of spirit.

  ‘Of course, Mary. Your friend is perfectly safe. I was merely thinking that such talent should not go to waste.’

  ‘Amy’s talent isn’t wasted. She hasn’t time to make gowns for anyone but me – have you, Amy?’

  ‘No,’ I said. I certainly didn’t have time to work on gowns for anyone else, but Mr Mainland’s encouragement had started me dreaming. ‘Not as things are …’

  Was that a gleam in Mr Maitland’s eyes? I couldn’t be sure, because Mary jumped up and grabbed my arm, hurrying me out into the early-morning air.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ I asked as I saw how pale she was.

  ‘You mustn’t trust him,’ she said. ‘Promise me you won’t listen to anything he says, Amy.’

  ‘Why don’t you like your father?’

  ‘Because … because he wasn’t kind to Mummy.’ Her eyes filled with tears, which she dashed away with the back of her hand. ‘Don’t listen to him. You can’t be his friend and mine. I want you to be my friend, Amy.’

  ‘Of course I am your friend. Anyway, in a few months Matthew will come home and I shall get married. I couldn’t do what your father suggested. I might design a gown sometimes for a friend, but I expect we’ll have children.’

  ‘Good.’ She smiled at me, her humour restored. ‘That’s best. You marry your Matthew and make me a dress now and then – and forget all Daddy’s silly ideas.’

  I hadn’t realized how selfish Mary could be. If I had been free to follow a career, Mr Maitland’s suggestion would have been the first step on the ladder. But it was better to be less ambitious. If I was lucky I might sell one of my designs to a fashion house sometimes.

  Matthew and our marriage had to come first.

  Five

  Jane, her brother and the others left immediately after lunch. Millie and Alan said goodbye to me and said they looked forward to seeing me again soon. Jane and her brother totally ignored me. Clearly, Jane had decided that the conversation she had overheard was my fault, and her brother simply thought I was beneath his notice.

  Mary didn’t want to leave at once. She would have liked to remain in the country a few more days if I was free to stay with her, but I told her firmly that I could not.

  ‘My aunt let me have Saturday off as it was, Mary. I can’t expect anything more.’

  ‘I shall stay,’ she said. ‘You’ll stay with me, won’t you, Paul?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I have appointments in town. Besides, you can’t just send Amy off on her own. If you’re not going back to town I’ll drive her myself.’

  ‘Oh, there’s no point in staying here alone,’ Mary said and pulled a face. ‘If you’re both going back I might as well take Daddy’s car and go too.’

  Paul made a wry face at me. He was obviously aware that Mary could be a selfish brat, but he was fond of her and put up with her ways.

  I decided that I would take the same attitude as Paul. He treated her sulks as if they meant nothing, and eventually she came round to his way of thinking. I made up my mind then that I wouldn’t run after Mary, but I wouldn’t take offence either.

  She apologized to me on the way home.

  ‘I know I’m rotten sometimes,’ she said. ‘I don’t mean to be, but it’s something inside me – something I can’t help. Paul says I’ve got the same bad blood as him, and he tells me to relax and be calm and I’ll feel better, but there are times when I just want to scream and scream.’

  ‘It can’t be very nice to feel like that,’ I said. ‘What does Paul mean exactly by bad blood?’

  Mary shrugged. ‘I think some of the older generation were a bit wild or something. No one ever tells me in what way, though I believe Paul has gone into it a bit more since he came back from the war. It’s the reason he says we can’t marry – because we’re too close and it would make the bad streak come out in our children.’

  ‘I don’t suppose it is good for close cousins to marry,’ I agreed. ‘I’ve heard that in some cases there can be problems with the children of such a marriage.’

  ‘Paul says he wouldn’t marry me even if my father agreed,’ Mary said, frowning. ‘So I suppose we shan’t, but he still belongs to me. He always will, even if he marries someone else.’

  ‘He told me he wasn’t thinking of taking a wife, so perhaps he won’t.’

  ‘Good. That way I can keep him all for myself.’

  Mary’s love for her cousin seemed slightly obsessive to me, but I didn’t comment on her remarks. After all, it wasn’t my affair. I liked Paul but I wasn’t in love with him, and I was going to marry Matthew. After that my friendship with Mary would probably fade into the background.

  I didn’t mind that, though I was enjoying myself now. I wanted it to continue for a while.

  I could tell that a man had been staying in my room, though it had been tidied and polished. There was a faint, lingering smell of tobacco and a different feel to things. I found a stray cufflink in the top drawer that I had cleared for his things, and a shirt button on the floor. I put them to one side for Lainie to send on, then opened the window a little and went through to my aunt’s parlour.

  ‘Did you have a good weekend?’

  We both asked the same question at once and laughed.

  ‘You first,’ Lainie said and so I told her about going on the river, about one of the girls falling in, and about Mary’s father showing an interest in my designs.

  ‘You next,’ I said, because I could tell from her manner that she was trying to keep her feelings under control. ‘Something happened this weekend, didn’t it?

  ‘Yes …’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’m going to tell you something that may shock you, Amy. When I was not much older than you are now I had … an unfortunate affair that left me pregnant. I wasn’t married, and had no hope of getting married.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said at once. ‘That must have been terrible for you.’

  ‘It was frightening at first,’ she said. ‘I was very unhappy – the affair ended badly, and there was no money. Bridget and I quarrelled a lot and I felt I was in the way. She had enough to do at home without looking after another baby, and I didn’t want my child – at least, I didn’t want him then.’

  ‘Poor you. It must have been an awful time for you.’

  ‘It was. I can’t tell you how bad but I hope you never experience anything like it, Amy. I was wretched for months – years. I had my baby in a home for unmarried girls and they gave him away f
or adoption. I had to sign a form agreeing to that before they would take me in. At the time I thought it would be best for everyone, but afterwards …’ She paused and I could see that she was greatly affected by her memories. ‘I began to feel guilty and to worry about what had happened to my son. As the years went on and I became settled in my work, finally inheriting this business and property, I knew I wanted to find him.’

  ‘Is that where Harold Brompton comes into it?’

  ‘I knew you would guess, Amy,’ she said and smiled. ‘He owns and runs an agency that traces lost people. He did a lot for women who had lost touch with husbands or lovers through the war, and I heard about him from a friend. After we’d met a few times I told him about my son and he said he would try to find him, though he didn’t hold out much hope at the time. These things were arranged to prevent that happening.’ She paused breathlessly and I could see the gleam of excitement in her eyes.

  ‘But now he has found your son?’

  ‘Yes. He gave me the name of the family who adopted him, their address and the place where my son works. Their name is Fisher and they called him John. It’s up to me now what I do about it.’

  ‘Does your son know he was adopted?’

  ‘Yes, he is aware of that. Harold was able to find that much out without alerting him to the fact that I was trying to find him …’ She looked and sounded nervous. ‘I’m not sure what to do next, Amy.’

  ‘You want to get in touch, don’t you? You must do or you wouldn’t have had him traced.’

  ‘I needed to be sure he was all right, but I don’t want to interfere in his life. He might not want to know me. He might hate me. After all, I did give him away.’

  ‘You didn’t have much choice, from what I’ve heard.’

  ‘Bridget would have helped me if I’d stayed with her. She was upset because I didn’t keep my baby – but there were reasons, Amy. I can’t tell you, but believe me I had reason enough not to want my child then.’

  ‘You’ve regretted it so much, haven’t you?’

  I understood the underlying sadness and the loneliness now. I had guessed there was a tragedy in my aunt’s past, and even now I believed there was a lot more she wasn’t telling me.

 

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