As she yanked the taxi door open, he yelled drunkenly, ‘You’re a cock-tease, Juliet, and goddam you.’
It took her a long time to get to sleep that night. It wasn’t just Peter Osborne’s behaviour that had been atrocious in the past month or so. Gerald, Hugh, John, Andrew, and all the others had turned nasty because she wouldn’t sleep with them any more.
Now, in the darkness of her room, she felt deep shame as she realized she’d been behaving, when drunk and after a line of coke, like a tart.
How had it happened? Her feelings had been that as long as she didn’t have to sleep alone, she’d be all right. At the beginning it had to do with blotting out the pain of losing Daniel.
The trouble was these chaps, these admirers, were no longer her friends. They despised her and were angry that she wouldn’t sleep with them any more, and they were making her feel like a whore. But wasn’t that what she’d always felt at heart anyway? Wasn’t she really worthless? Nothing but an object of lecherous male desire?
No! No, she mustn’t think like that, or the demons would come rushing back, she thought in panic.
What would Daniel think of her if he knew she’d slept around? Or had he guessed, and that was why he didn’t want to have anything more to do with her?
There was no sleep for Juliet that night. She padded around her room, looking out of her window at the park, dark and silent tonight, before going down to the dining room for some brandy.
What must even Dudley think of her? she thought with sudden horror. Then with a shudder she realized how hurt and bewildered her father would be if he knew.
The next morning she phoned Henry at the bank.
‘I was thinking of spending a few days at Hartley,’ she told him. ‘I’ve got some leave owed to me. Can we travel down together on Friday evening?’
‘I can’t think of anything nicer, darling,’ he replied, his voice filled with pleasure.
Dad’s so trusting, she reflected as she hung up, unable to explain to anyone why the tears were streaming down her face as if her heart would break.
* * *
‘Are you all right, Louise?’ Nanny asked, her eyes dark with suspicion.
Louise was sitting in the nursery, doing her homework at the small oak desk Henry had given her for her birthday when she’d been small. She looked up vaguely, as if she’d been awakened from a dream.
‘I’m tired; I can’t think why. I could sleep for a week.’ She stretched her arms above her head, and yawned.
‘You look tired.’ Nanny frowned uneasily. Something wasn’t right and she wondered whether she should say something to Mrs Granville. The girl was lethargic and had shadows under her eyes. Perhaps she was having trouble at school? Perhaps she wasn’t eating enough?
Nanny’s worries shot into overdrive when she was checking the contents of the bathroom store cupboard. Beside rolls of loo paper, rationed soap and tins of sticking plaster, she kept packets of Kotex. She stared long and hard at the shelf. Hardly any had been used, and now that both Louise and Amanda had started, she was required to replace the stocks every month or so. Mrs Granville wouldn’t have taken any, having her own bathroom, and Lady Anne was long past needing such things.
Nanny, shrugging off the mystery, got on with the ironing, and temporarily forgot about it. Until the next morning.
She was putting on the kettle for her first cup of tea, when she heard retching sounds coming from the bathroom. Creeping into the passage, she paused by the door, which was ajar. Peering through the narrow slit between the hinges, she saw Louise on her knees, head bent over the lavatory bowl.
Everything instantly fell into place. Nanny leaned against the door lintel, weak with shock and horror, her plump hand clapped over the mouth.
Dear Mother of God! How had it happened? When had it happened? Louise was chaperoned every minute of the day when she wasn’t at school. Nanny took her out for walks herself, although she loathed both the countryside and walking. And during the holidays, Louise was either with Lady Anne or Mrs Granville, or maybe Mrs Dobbs in the kitchen, from morning till night.
‘I want to talk to you, Louise,’ Nanny said harshly, when Louise emerged into the passage, looking washed out.
‘Not just now, Nanny,’ she pleaded. ‘I’ve eaten something that’s upset me.’
Beady eyes bore accusingly into Louise. ‘I don’t think that’s true.’ She took Louise by the shoulder and shoved her roughly into her bedroom, and pushed her down onto the bed. Then she turned to shut the door.
‘I want the truth now, mind. Have you been seeing that ruffian of a boy?’
Louise’s head fell forward, and a crimson flush suffused her face.
‘Answer my question, Louise.’
Her voice was barely audible. ‘A few times.’
‘I thought so!’ There was a triumphant self-righteousness in her tone. ‘You’ve been behaving like a filthy little slut, haven’t you?’
Louise looked up at her, shocked and hurt. ‘I don’t know what you mean, Nanny?’
‘You know what I mean all right, so don’t give me that. You’ve been doing dirty things with that boy, haven’t you? Wait until your mother hears about this.’
Louise had never seen Nanny so angry. Her face was red and ugly, and she seemed beside herself with rage and fear.
‘Please don’t tell Mummy,’ she begged. ‘There’s no need to tell Mummy.’ Tears plopped down her cheeks on to her cotton nightdress, and she started trembling.
Nanny spoke scornfully. ‘So how do you suppose you’re going to have a baby without your mother knowing about it, young lady?’
‘A baby?’ Bewilderment and disbelief flooded her face.
‘Why else haven’t you come on for the past two months, then? And have morning sickness, too?’
Louise seemed to shrink, subsiding into a quivering heap as she curled up on her bed, in a foetal position.
‘I can’t be,’ she whispered, too shocked to cry. ‘I didn’t think…’
‘It doesn’t matter what you thought, you’re pregnant. You know what that means, don’t you? You’re a disgrace; your whole family will be shamed by what you’ve done. It would surprise me if they don’t kick you out, and mark my words, if they do, it’ll be your own fault. You’re no better than a gutter-snipe!’
‘Nanny!’ Louise wailed, deeply frightened now. Nanny had always been so jolly and cosy, a warm comforting figure in her life ever since she could remember. Why was she being so hateful now? She leapt to her feet and headed for the door.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’
‘I want Rosie,’ Louise sobbed. But Rosie had taken the babies for a walk and, pursued by Nanny, Louise found herself being propelled into her mother’s bedroom.
‘What’s going on?’ Liza demanded, looking up from her breakfast tray. Nanny stood over Louise, who had her hands to her face and was crying hysterically.
‘Louise has something to tell you, ma’am. Go on. Tell your mother what you’ve gone and done.’
Louise, unable to stand, collapsed onto her knees by the side of her mother’s bed, unable to speak.
Nanny continued venomously, ‘She’s only gone and got herself pregnant by that lout in the village.’
Liza stared, stunned, at Louise’s ruffled blonde hair and shaking shoulders. Then, even to her own surprise, she turned on Nanny. ‘Why didn’t you keep an eye on her?’ She hissed furiously, her first instinct being to make sure neither Warwick nor Mrs Dobbs overheard them.
Nanny spoke defensively; all along she’d guessed she’d be blamed, because Mrs Granville had always passed on the responsibility of looking after the girls to her, and in her heart she couldn’t help feeling a tinge of guilt.
‘What was I to do, ma’am?’ she roared. ‘Lock her in her room at night? I’m not her jailer.’
‘Will you leave us, please, Nanny,’ Liza asked coldly. ‘I want to talk to Louise. And do not tell anyone about this, and that includes the rest of the staff.’
Louise waited for her mother to explode with anger, and accuse her of being bad and wicked. Instead, something much worse happened. Liza started crying.
‘I’m sorry, Mummy,’ Louise said in anguish, when she saw how upset her mother was.
‘You’re just a baby yourself,’ Liza said, wiping her eyes with a tiny handkerchief. ‘I can’t believe this has happened to you. You’re only fifteen.’
‘Jack and I can get married,’ she ventured tentatively. ‘He’s a wonderful person, Mummy. I know you’ll like him when you get to know him.’
Liza didn’t answer, but lay back against her pillows, feeling quite ill as she tried to take in the enormity of what had happened. Louise was ruined; that was a certainty. If she ever got married, how could she go to make her vows at the altar in a white dress, with her virginity gone and an illegitimate child somewhere in the background? It was a total calamity.
‘Stay in bed today, Louise,’ her mother told her. ‘Don’t tell anyone about this and I’ll say you’ve got a touch of influenza. I’ve got to think about the best way to handle this.’
When Louise sped thankfully away, Liza set about making plans.
* * *
‘Amanda,’ Louise called out, in a stage whisper. ‘I want to ask you something.’
Amanda, back from school, breezed into her sister’s bedroom. ‘Are you feeling better?’
‘A bit, but Mummy said I was to stay in bed,’ Louise replied.
‘Poor you. What do you want?’
Louise signalled her to come closer. ‘No one must know,’ she breathed, handing Amanda a sealed envelope, ‘but could you possibly give this to Jack? We were going to meet tonight… You know where he lives, don’t you? But give it to him in person. Don’t give it to his aunt, or leave it for him.’
‘OK. I’ll go after tea. I’ll pretend I’m going to check on the rabbits.’ She stuffed the envelope in the pocket of her cotton dress.
‘Don’t put it there; everyone can see it.’
Amanda whipped it out, lifted up her skirt, and stuffed it into her knickers, which had elastic round the legs.
‘Do you want me to bring back a message from him?’ she asked eagerly. She was enjoying this. She’d pretend she was on a secret mission, taking plans to a Russian spy on behalf of Mr Churchill.
Louise shook her head vehemently. ‘Just give it to him. Then come straight back.’
* * *
Henry, who arrived with Juliet from London, lowered himself onto a garden bench on the terrace, knocked sideways by the news.
‘I can’t believe it,’ he kept saying in anguish.
Juliet, perched on the wooden arm, still in her hat and gloves, was more practical. ‘Has she seen the doctor? It may be a false alarm.’
‘She can’t go to the local doctor,’ Liza said. ‘No one must find out about this. I was wondering, Juliet…’ her voice trailed off uncertainly and she shifted uncomfortably on the bench.
‘What?’
‘Would you happen to know of somewhere she could go… to get rid of it?’
‘An abortionist?’ Henry exclaimed, horrified.
‘Hush! Keep your voice down,’ Liza scolded, glancing anxiously towards the house.
‘I’ve heard of a couple,’ Juliet replied evenly, ‘but I wouldn’t send a dog to them for an operation.’
‘Then she’ll have to be sent away somewhere, and have it adopted as soon as it’s born,’ Liza said resignedly.
Henry glanced at his wife in surprise. When it came to guarding the good name of the family, she was certainly ruthless.
‘That boy should be horsewhipped. I’d like to get the police on to him,’ he said with growing fury. ‘She’s only fifteen, for God’s sake. He could go to prison for this.’
‘He’s only fifteen himself,’ Liza retorted, ‘and what’s been done, has been done. We don’t want the police involved, for God’s sake. The important thing is to contain this disaster.’
‘Does my mother know? Or Rosie?’ Henry demanded.
‘Only Nanny knows, and I’ve a good mind to sack her. She was beastly to Louise this morning, and very rude to me. If she stays I bet she’ll start telling Mrs Dobbs, and then the whole county will know.’
‘Oh, God,’ Henry groaned.
‘I’d definitely sack Nanny,’ Juliet observed. ‘It’s not her business to be judgemental. Shall I take Louise back to town with me when I go? While we decide what should be done?’
‘What about the air raids?’
‘I have a shelter in the basement if necessary and at least I could keep an eye on her.’
‘That’s not a bad idea,’ Liza said thoughtfully. ‘It would get her away from here, before anyone suspects…’
‘Get her away from that damned young man, that’s more to the point,’ Henry interjected heavily.
‘I know.’ Liza now found herself in the most agonizing position. She needed time to think.
Louise must be sent away and cared for by someone qualified, until after the baby was born. Liza knew someone but it could cost her her own social credibility if anyone found out they were related.
Liza had an aunt, whom she hadn’t seen or spoken to for nearly thirty years. Tegan Williams was her late mother’s sister, and when last heard of was living in a cottage on the outskirts of Aberystwyth. Aunty Tegan (Welsh for beautiful, which she’d certainly never been) had never married, and she’d been a district nurse until she retired a few years ago.
Although Henry knew the truth about his wife’s background, or most of it, Liza had never wanted her daughters to realize that her beginnings had been so humble. Her parents had been dead for years now, so it had been easy to adopt the style and manners of the Granvilles, leaving the details of her own early life behind, lost in the mists of vagueness; however, it would all come out if they ever met Aunty Tegan.
Liza lay awake most of the night, tormented as to know what to do for the best. Her aunt was obviously the perfect choice; Wales was far away, she was a trained midwife, and she could surely be trusted to be discreet, in return for a handsome remuneration.
What kept Liza from sleeping was the thought of what her daughters would think when they realized their mother didn’t come from the same background as their father. They might despise her, and accuse her of that most despicable gaffe of all, according to Lady Anne: social climbing.
Liza whimpered into her pillow with anguish. Did she really have to relinquish her so-called social standing in order to ensure Louise was going to be looked after by a member of her own family? Wouldn’t she perhaps be better placed in a convent? Where the nuns would be forgiving of her sins, and would find a nice home for the baby?
* * *
‘Of course she must go to your aunt,’ Henry said the next morning, when she tentatively put forward the suggestion. ‘I just wish she could stay here, with all of us,’ he added wretchedly.
He was heartbroken and very worried that Louise seemed to have decided, overnight, that having a baby was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her.
‘Jack and I love each other,’ she kept saying, her eyes starry, her expression radiant. Amanda had given her note to Jack, telling him she had to see him, urgently, ‘tomorrow night, at the usual place’.
In a few hours now, she’d be with him, and she longed to see his expression when she told him the exciting news. Visions of a white wedding in the local church danced around in her mind.
Once married, they were going to live happily ever after, with their dear little baby, and no one could stop them now, she reflected dreamily.
Louise insisted on Lady Anne and Rosie being told. ‘Why not?’ she demanded. ‘Amanda should know, but maybe Charlotte is too young at the moment.’
Juliet backed her up. ‘This is a family matter. We must all support Louise.’
‘I’m so afraid of it getting out,’ Liza mourned, hoarse now from whispering all day. ‘You don’t seem to realize what a disgrace this is. Poor wom
en are institutionalized, and shut away in disgrace, for being unmarried mothers.’
‘That’s right,’ Henry agreed sadly. ‘It is regarded as a terrible sin. Only the rich can arrange a cover-up. If there hadn’t been a war, Louise would have been sent abroad, under the pretext of learning the language, and had the baby adopted on the Continent. And no one would have been the wiser.’
* * *
Telephone calls had been made, and a family conference had been held in the library, while Louise, Amanda and Charlotte had been ordered to help Spence in the kitchen garden.
Lady Anne had said very little, but her face had been etched with sadness, and her mouth had worked as if she’d had a problem concealing her feelings. Henry looked as if he’d aged ten years overnight as he outlined Liza’s plans to send Louise to be looked after by her aunt in Wales.
‘We’ve both spoken to Aunt Tegan, and she’s very happy to have Louise to stay,’ he said.
‘But she’ll come back here, afterwards, won’t she?’ asked Rosie, her face blotchy with crying. She couldn’t think of anything more tragic than having to give away your baby as soon as it was born.
‘Louise will be sixteen when it’s all over,’ Liza observed. ‘It might be better if she went straight to London to stay with Juliet when she leaves Wales, and then after her seventeenth birthday enrol in the Red Cross, or something.’
‘I wouldn’t want her to do what I’m doing, or see the sights I’m seeing,’ Juliet said grimly.
‘Oh, God,’ Rosie wept. ‘We should let her stay here. The baby could be brought up with Sophia and Jonathan.’
‘Sooner or later it will get out that it’s Louise’s child,’ Henry pointed out, ‘and I have to agree with Mummy, hard though it is, that having an illegitimate child will ruin Louise’s future.’
‘When will you tell her?’ Rosie asked, her voice quivering.
Liza spoke. ‘Daddy and I will talk to her after tea.’
The Granville Affaire Page 19
