The Birthday Present

by Pamela Oldfield

  Outside the door he stopped. ‘He’s not going to jilt her, is he? That blasted Carlotta . . .’

  ‘Hush dear!’ She glanced round, uncomfortably aware that his voice would carry, but thankfully everyone seemed to be engrossed in their work. ‘Of course he’s not going to jilt her. That little awkwardness is in the past so please don’t refer to it again.’ She gave him a gentle push and went back into the ballroom.

  Bernard was pacing the room when the knock came. ‘Come in.’

  It was his uncle and Bernard forced a smile.

  Henry said, ‘The big day, eh? Quite an occasion, what!’

  ‘It seems somehow unreal.’ Bernard was sitting on the bed, still wearing his dressing gown, and his feet were bare.

  ‘You don’t look old enough to be getting wed.’

  ‘I’m twenty-seven! But I admit I’ll be glad when it’s all over.’ He sighed as he turned away and walked to the wardrobe. He pulled out his outfit, dark suit, crisp white shirt, brand new shoes.

  His uncle said, ‘Don’t forget your buttonhole. The florist is coming at eleven, the hairdresser will be here in an hour or so for my wife, the photographer is already flitting around the grounds, planning his backgrounds.’ He shook his head. ‘I tried to take a look at the ballroom but your mother saw fit to chase me out.’

  Bernard nodded gloomily. ‘Did you go through all this fuss when you married?’

  ‘Of course we did, old boy! In the time it took I could have organized a battle and won it! Still, never mind. Look on the bright side. You and Letitia will be off to Torquay for your honeymoon and will forget all about the hassle of the wedding. Damned nice place, Torquay. You’ll like it. But take my advice and steer clear of the sea. All that nonsense about the benefits of salt water! Poppycock! I caught the devil of a cold last time I was there. A real beast, that was. Laid me low for three days. Didn’t please your aunt, I can tell you that for nothing! Rather restricted her socializing.’ He laughed. ‘Still. Women are funny creatures. We can’t live with them but can’t live without them. Know what I mean, do you?’

  ‘Yes. Of course.’

  ‘Er . . . no worries, then? Nothing I can say to set your mind at ease?’ Without waiting for an answer he went on. ‘That’s the ticket. Good lad!’

  A maid knocked on the door and came in with a large jug of hot water.

  Seeing his nephew’s surprise, he said, ‘I’m afraid that damned geyser thingy in the bathroom isn’t working again but Ellen will bring you up a second jug of hot water if you stand the first outside the door when you’ve emptied it into the bowl.’

  ‘Right you are, Uncle. Thank you.’ He summoned up another smile.

  Henry, feeling that he had done rather well, took his chance and left his nephew to his ablutions.

  Marcus and Steven eyed each other across the breakfast table. Both had finished eating but neither felt inclined to start the rest of the day. It was just before ten and the rest of the house appeared to be in a state of turmoil. The hairdresser had arrived and Letitia had retired to her room to have her hair dressed by Mrs Stimpson. At breakfast Letitia had eaten almost nothing, complaining that she felt slightly sick with nerves and could only manage half a slice of toast.

  Rose had come down late, having overslept, and was now coming to the end of her scrambled egg and bacon. When the front door bell rang they glanced at each other. Steven said, ‘It might be for me,’ but hesitated, making no move to enquire further.

  Rose laughed. ‘It certainly won’t be for me,’ and glanced at Marcus.

  ‘I hope not!’ he said in answer to her unanswered question. They waited for footsteps in the hall which would indicate that Mrs Bray was on her way to answer it. There were none.

  Steven said, ‘If it’s for me, I’m not here.’

  Rose swallowed the last mouthful, dabbed at her mouth with her serviette and jumped up. ‘I’ll go!’

  The man standing on the front step looked remarkably like Andrew Markham but she told herself that was not possible because since Connie’s murder, he had not been seen. Unless he was trying to disguise himself.

  ‘I want to speak to Steven Bennley,’ the man said truculently. ‘Tell him it’s Bart Markham.’

  ‘He’s not here, I’m afraid.’ Rose tried to look honest.

  ‘Just tell him it’s best he comes to the door. I’m in a—’

  ‘I’ve just told you – he’s not here, Mr Markham.’ So this was the other part-owner. She regarded him curiously. He looked slightly younger and was slimmer in build.

  ‘And I know he is so tell him to—’

  ‘I could take a message. Would that help?’

  ‘You can tell him he must settle his debts or expect serious consequences. Say next time he might not get off so lightly. He’s been warned.’ He turned on his heel but then had second thoughts and turned back. ‘You his sister?’

  ‘No I’m not. I’m Rose Paton. My stage name is Miss Lamore. I shared a flat with Connie.’ She gave him a hard look. ‘So where is your brother? The police think he killed her.’

  For a moment he looked disconcerted, then his surly manner returned. ‘None of your ruddy business! Just give Steven Bennley my message or he’ll live to regret it – or maybe he won’t!’ His laugh grated in an ugly way and in spite of herself, Rose shuddered.

  She watched him go, then returned to the dining room to pass on the message. Steven groaned.

  Suddenly Marcus said, ‘Rose, could you leave us if you’ve had enough to eat? I need to speak with Steven.’

  She was mortified at being excluded but went without a word.

  Left alone Steven said, ‘I know what you’re going to say and—’

  ‘No you don’t. I have a proposition for you. I wasn’t fooled by your reason for the beating. I’m afraid that next time you might be killed.’

  ‘Killed?’ he blustered. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Who’s going to kill me?’

  ‘Markham’s thugs – I can put two and two together, Steven, so please don’t treat me like a fool. Just listen. I’m prepared to borrow the money you need to pay off the debt but on one condition – that you enlist in the army.’

  ‘Enlist in the . . . Are you out of your mind?’ Steven regarded him incredulously. ‘Join the army? For God’s sake, Marcus! I’d rather chop off my right arm!’

  Marcus remained calm. ‘I’m perfectly serious, Steven. You may not realize it, but you would make a very fine officer. It’s a first-class career. One that . . .’

  Steven’s eyes hardened. ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Marcus?’ To get rid of me! Well, you can forget it! Nothing would persuade me to—’

  ‘You owe a lot of money and I’ll get it for you. That’s the quid pro quo. I don’t want an answer right now. We’ve got Letitia’s wedding to think about and you need time to think the offer over.’ He looked at his brother, his expression enigmatic. ‘Please at least think about it. We know what Andrew Markham did to Connie and what his thugs did to you – oh don’t bother to deny it! You’re not a very good liar and I’ve known you all your life. Lord knows what they’ll do to you next time. Just think about it, Steven. A commission in the army is not a bad alternative.’

  ‘Why can’t you simply lend me the money?’

  ‘Because I haven’t got it and will have to arrange a loan – and also because we both know it won’t end there, Steven. Firstly, you’ll never pay me back and secondly, you’ll ask me again and again. I’ve given this a lot of thought—’

  ‘And why spring it on me today of all days?’

  ‘I didn’t mean to but that visit from Markham’s brother brought it home to me. If he sets his bullies on to you and they half kill you . . . I don’t want to see that happen, Steven. I’m trying to help you. Think about it.’ He stood up abruptly. ‘I’ll ask Rose to go up and help Letitia. I’ll be glad when today is over and she is happily wed!’

  ‘I wish Marie could have been here.’

  ‘She’s better off with Mother and Ge
rard. We could both go over there if you wish, after the wedding. Mother would love to see you.’

  Before Steven could make an argument out of that suggestion, Marcus hurried out and went in search of Rose, wondering if life for the Bennley family would ever go smoothly.

  Nine

  As close friends and family, Rose, Marcus and Steven sat in the front pew. On the opposite side of the aisle were the groom’s family which included the uncle and aunt. As Marcus and Rose walked to their seats, he whispered to Rose that Carlotta and her parents, Simon and Nora Todd, were close friends of the da Silvas.

  The rest of the small church was filled with invited friends and at the far end, a group of local well-wishers had gathered. Outside they had passed a large group of villagers enjoying the spectacle of a wealthy wedding.

  Rose was determined to enjoy the day and was wearing the clothes that Marcus had bought her to wear to France. She had pushed aside the sad thoughts about Connie, believing that she owed it to Marcus’s family to prove herself a perfect guest at the wedding.

  As she glanced at the polished guests in their beautiful clothes, she decided that she would not marry until she was wealthy as well as famous and could do things in a similar style. Determined to enjoy herself, she refused to think about Clarice and Gerard miles away on the other side of the Channel, who were missing such a wonderful day . . . or about Marie, who would have loved to be present.

  An abrupt change of music heralded the arrival of Letitia, who was being given away by her godfather, and although Rose had seen and admired Letitia earlier while she was helping with her dress, the sight of her walking down the aisle brought a glow of happiness to her face. Rose glanced up at Marcus, who was also smiling. Steven, having turned down the invitation to be an usher, was busy arranging his hassock and only looked up when his sister had passed.

  The service began in earnest as they all knelt to pray and then resumed their seats for the actual service. Rose thought that Bernard da Silva looked suitably dignified and very handsome in his dark suit, and wondered who she herself would marry. Maybe another successful performer – an opera singer might be suitably dignified and sought after, she thought wistfully – but then he might outshine her and that would be a pity.

  The vicar, small and thin, was somewhat swamped by his black and white vestments, but he made his way through the familiar phrases of the marriage service with a comforting air of assurance, never missing a word and speaking clearly so that no one had to strain to hear him. Steven, paying little attention, was now riffling through his book to find the appropriate hymn and Rose, forgetting her intention to be the perfect guest, nudged him with her elbow and frowned at him.

  ‘What is it?’ he demanded irritably in a loud whisper.

  At that moment the vicar was heard asking if anyone knew of any reason why the couple should not be joined in Holy Matrimony. There was an anxious moment as his enquiring glance roved over the congregation and then a sudden gasp and a turning of heads.

  Hearing this, Letitia turned and so did Bernard. Startled, Marcus and Rose also turned and saw a young woman standing two rows back.

  ‘My God!’ hissed Marcus. ‘It’s Carlotta Todd!’

  Carlotta’s voice rang out. ‘I know just cause. Bernard da Silva is not in love with her! Ask him!’

  Her parents, white-faced with shock, tried to pull her back down in her seat but she fought them off.

  The vicar, taken by surprise, began to stammer and lost his poise. Letitia was staring, ashen-faced, at the cause of the interruption and Bernard, Rose saw, had sunk down on to the pew and had hidden his face in his hands.

  ‘Marcus! Do something!’ Rose urged. ‘Say something to her!’

  ‘Such as what?’

  ‘Just stop her!’

  Carlotta continued. ‘Ask Bernard if he truly loves his bride-to-be. His answer, here under God’s roof, will be “No!”’

  The vicar took a few tentative steps forward as though to confront her. Carlotta still stood, defiantly ignoring the protests that came from all directions. Her mother swayed and almost fell. Her father, now red-faced and furious, was shaking her by the arm, begging her to sit down.

  Letitia clung to her godfather who supported her as well as he could.

  Suddenly Steven decided to become a player in the drama. He shook Bernard and said, ‘Stand up, for God’s sake, and say something!’

  Letitia cried, ‘Bernard! Answer her!’

  ‘Yes, yes!’ said the vicar gathering his wits. ‘You will have to answer the claim or the service cannot go ahead.’

  Urged on by Steven, Bernard stared at Carlotta who had now pushed her way into the aisle. ‘Carlotta . . .’ he stammered. ‘You can’t . . . This isn’t . . .’

  The congregation fell silent as Carlotta walked slowly towards him. ‘Who do you love, Bernard?’ she asked, her voice low. ‘Her or me? In God’s name, tell the truth.’

  Time seemed to stand still and a hush fell over the congregation as all eyes focused on Bernard. When the moment lengthened and still he did not speak a low, shocked murmur ran through the congregation.

  Marcus said, ‘Bernard! What’s the matter with you? Don’t you see what the vicar is saying – that you have to answer Carlotta’s question? You have to say that you love Letitia or the marriage won’t go ahead!’

  He stared at Marcus, the picture of misery. ‘I do love her!’ he said.

  Steven said, ‘You do love who? That is, which one?’

  Marcus groaned. ‘This is farcical!’

  Around them the murmur of disapproval grew to a grumble of discontent.

  Rose could stand it no longer. She stepped forward and glared at Carlotta. ‘You wicked little troublemaker!’ she snapped. ‘Why don’t you just get out of here? You’ve caused enough trouble already!’

  Someone in the congregation called ‘Hear, hear!’ And there were mutterings of support.

  Carlotta was not to be distracted from her purpose. She said, ‘Mind your own business!’ and pushed Rose so that she fell backwards.

  The push took Rose by surprise and she rocked back on her heels with the force of the blow and fell against the pew behind her.

  Letitia, appalled by the way her wedding day plans were disintegrating, hitched up her skirts and ran, sobbing, past them, up the aisle, past Carlotta and out of the church. While everyone stared at her departing back, Marcus helped Rose to her feet while Steven and the vicar huddled together with Letitia’s godfather, wondering what to do next.

  Bernard’s mother joined them, pale with shock, a trembling hand pressed to her heart. She spoke to the vicar. ‘I’m so sorry, vicar. What on earth possessed that wretched Carlotta? This is quite unbelievable . . . My heart won’t stop racing! Dear Lord!’

  They guided her to a pew and she sat down heavily. ‘What on earth can I say? What shall we do?’ She looked at Marcus. ‘Your poor sister. Shouldn’t somebody be with her?’

  Rose said, ‘I’ll go,’ and hurried along the aisle which was already filled with people who had left their seats in confusion. She avoided eye contact with Carlotta, still smarting emotionally, as well as physically, from the push she had received. To Rose it appeared that nothing could now go ahead as planned, except perhaps the wedding breakfast. People had travelled long distances and would need to be fed at some time. She imagined the ballroom and the waiting caterers who as yet had no idea the wedding had descended into chaos.

  Once in the churchyard she caught sight of Letitia running down the path towards the lychgate. ‘Letitia! Please wait!’

  The crowd outside were staring in astonishment at the runaway bride who seemed unaware of their startled expressions. Rose caught up with her and took hold of her hand. ‘Please stop, Letitia!’ she begged, trying to stop the headlong flight. ‘Where are you going?’

  Abruptly Letitia stopped, clutching her side and breathing heavily. ‘I’m going home! What else can I do? Bernard . . . he didn’t deny it! Oh God. I hate him! How could he let her d
o that? How, Rose? In front of all those people – it was so cruel of him not to defend us . . . to let her humiliate me like that.’ Clinging to the corner post of the gate, she tried to control her tears while the watching villagers drew back a little, murmuring to each other in shocked tones.

  An elderly woman looked at Rose. ‘What’s happening, miss? Ain’t there going to be no wedding?’

  Before Rose could decide how to answer Letitia raised her head. ‘There may be a wedding but I won’t be part of it,’ she cried. She waved her hand for the carriage that had brought her smiling and full of hope, to the church gate, and the puzzled driver hopped down and walked back to them.

  Rose told him, ‘There’s been a change of plan. Letitia and I would like to go straight back to Victoria House.’

  From beneath his black top hat he looked from Rose to Letitia. ‘Is that right? I mean . . . where’s the bridegroom? Shouldn’t we wait?’

  Letitia recovered her breath. ‘Miss Paton is quite right. We are returning alone to Victoria House. Mr da Silva will not be coming with me . . . ever!’

  Rose eyed her with a mixture of admiration and astonishment. There was no hesitation in Letitia’s voice and it left no room for a change of mind. It flashed into Rose’s mind that Letitia did not seem as surprised as she should have been at the unfortunate turn of events, and she wondered whether somewhere deep in Letitia’s subconscious there had been a premonition of such a disaster. If so she had certainly not shown any signs of anxiety – at least, not in Rose’s presence.

  The driver looked bleak. ‘So I’m not to go to Longley Manor?’ He had imagined the wonderful spectacle they would make and the admiring glances he would receive as he drew up at the door with the smiling couple. ‘The lady who made the booking said I was to pick up the bride at Victoria House but take them both to Longley Manor after the wedding.’

  Rose said, ‘It’s been changed. Do please get a move on.’ She glanced nervously over her shoulder but there was no sign of a pursuit.