Love or Duty

by Roberta Grieve

  ‘I’m on leave,’ she told him. ‘I just felt like having a few restful days by the sea.’ Although she wasn’t in uniform she managed during the course of their conversation to convey that she’d been doing war work in London.

  She wasn’t the only one telling half truths. James, while hinting that his work was so secret that he couldn’t tell her anything, made himself out to be something of a hero. She smiled to herself, picturing his reaction when he realized who she was.

  The train started up again and steamed into Worthing where the WAAF and the other passengers got out. Alone in the carriage, James moved closer to her and took her hand.

  Sarah smiled, wondering how far he’d go. She didn’t mind a little flirtation but when his hands started to wander she slapped them away. He didn’t seem in the least put out, laughing and holding up his hands in surrender. ‘I know; we’ve only just met. But seriously, Sally my dear, I’d like to get to know you better. How about a drink at your hotel later on – say eight o’clock?’

  She gave him a teasing smile and agreed, knowing that by then she’d have seen Louise and exposed ‘Jim’ for the cad he was.

  James took the girl’s case down from the rack and insisted on carrying it to the hotel for her. As he said goodbye he was looking forward to their assignation later on. But first, there was something he had to do.

  Flirting with the girl on the train had taken his mind off things for a while. But now, he seethed with anger as he recalled his meeting with the man he’d thought of as a friend. The chap had refused point blank to help him. His answer had been the same as David Webster’s: a signature wasn’t enough. He had to meet Louise in person and have her assurance that she agreed to selling the house. ‘I don’t know your wife, James,’ he’d said. ‘In fact for all these months we’ve been playing poker together you’ve never once mentioned the fact that you even had a wife.’

  James had been furious. ‘Are you implying something?’

  ‘Of course not. It’s just that in my business, I like to be sure everything’s above board.’

  James had managed to stay calm, to reassure his friend that he understood. But as he strode towards the station he was fuming. While he waited for the train he calmed down and, with cold clarity he knew what he had to do. Louise had been depressed for months. No one, including that old buffer Tate, would be surprised if she took an overdose of sleeping tablets.

  Once he’d made the decision his mood lightened. Flirting with Sally had taken his mind off what he planned to do.

  Muriel was concerned about Louise and had telephoned several times. But it was always her husband who answered.

  She’d never liked James Spencer and, even before Stanley Charlton’s death, she’d been suspicious that he was defrauding the business. How she wished she’d conveyed her suspicions to Louise before she’d married the man. Now, she wondered why he was so keen to keep her friends away, fobbing her off with the excuse that Louise was too ill for visitors.

  She knew that wasn’t true. Mrs Wilson had said she’d seen Louise out with her husband a few days before.

  ‘He told me she was ill,’ Muriel said.

  ‘Well, she was a little pale and holding on to her husband’s arm. But she must be better if she’s out and about,’ Mrs Wilson said. ‘I do hope she’ll soon be back on duty. We need an extra pair of hands.’

  ‘I’ll pop round to see her later on,’ Muriel said.

  When her shift was over, Muriel walked round to Steyne House, hoping that James would still be at the office. There was no answer to her knock and she went round the side of the house, hoping to find a door or window open. She wasn’t going to give up until she knew her friend was all right.

  She tried the back door but it was firmly bolted. Looking through the kitchen window she saw that the draining board was piled high with dirty crockery, the remains of a meal on the table in the centre of the room. That wasn’t like Louise, she thought. Perhaps she really was ill.

  Muriel turned to leave but something made her hesitate and she knocked on the front door again. Still no answer. The curtains were drawn across the bay window but there was a small gap. Peering through it, she saw Louise lying on the sofa. She decided not to disturb her but then she gasped as Louise groaned and one hand flopped down to dangle over the edge of the sofa.

  Muriel bit her knuckles, unsure what to do. It didn’t look like natural sleep. ‘Louise, wake up,’ she shouted, banging on the window. Her friend didn’t stir.

  ‘Phone box,’ Muriel muttered, dashing to the end of the road, only to find she had no change. She looked round wildly, but there was no one in sight. She remembered that Dr Tate lived only a couple of streets away and she began to run, praying that he was home.

  Louise struggled to sit up, closing her eyes against the pain in her head. She was going to be sick. There was a sour taste in her mouth and a smell of alcohol in the air. A voice murmured in her ear. ‘My love, wake up, please….’

  Strong arms enfolded her and, as memory returned, she fought against them. ‘No, please don’t make me,’ she cried.

  Gentle hands stroked her hair and at last she recognized the reassuring voice. ‘Andrew,’ she whispered. ‘How did you…?’

  ‘Your friend fetched me. She was worried about you. Thank God I was there when she called.’ There was sob in his voice. ‘I got here just in time.’

  Louise sat up and pushed him away. ‘You shouldn’t be here,’ she said. She looked round wildly. ‘James might come back. He mustn’t find you here.’

  Andrew caught her hands. ‘He can’t hurt you now. We know what he tried to do. It’s a good job he forced you to drink the whisky as well. That’s what made you sick. The pills didn’t have a chance to work.’

  Muriel spoke from the corner of the room where she’d been rinsing a cloth in a basin of water. ‘You were semi-conscious when we arrived, muttering and moaning. We were able to make out what had happened.’

  Louise looked into Andrew’s eyes. ‘You believe me then?’

  He nodded and pressed her hands to his lips. ‘He wanted people to think….’

  ‘I would never have believed it, however convincing he was,’ Muriel said. ‘I never did trust that man, even when he was a lad. Sly, deceitful….’ She shrugged. ‘Sorry, I know he’s your husband.’ She picked up the basin and left the room.

  Louise shook her head. ‘She’s right. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize….’

  Andrew was about to say something when there was a knock at the door. ‘That’ll be the police,’ he said, standing up. When Louise gasped he said, ‘We had to call them. He tried to kill you.’

  The door was flung open and Sarah burst in. ‘Kill – did you say kill?’ she shrieked. She threw herself into Louise’s arms and burst into tears. ‘I knew there was something wrong. Oh, Lou, please tell me you’re OK. Why didn’t I come home sooner? I’m sorry, so sorry.’

  Now it was Louise’s turn to offer comfort. ‘It doesn’t matter. You’re here now.’

  In the midst of the tearful reunion a police sergeant arrived accompanied by a constable. While Muriel and Andrew gave their statements, Sarah went into the kitchen to clear up, saying there would be plenty of time to talk when everyone had gone.

  James paced up and down his office, glancing from time to time at his watch. Had the drugs taken effect yet? After leaving Sally, he’d gone home and found Louise resting on the sofa in the drawing room. It had been hard to force her to drink the whisky laced with the sleeping pills. He’d left the glass and pill bottle on the side table, spilled a few of tablets on the floor and then returned to the office. He glanced at his watch again and the enormity of what he’d done suddenly hit him. Keeping her sedated so that she was confused and amenable was one thing. Murder was quite another. Was it too late to change his mind?

  No, he had to go through with it. He needed that money – and he needed a drink too. He grabbed his hat and rushed along to the Red Lion. The landlord knew him well an
d had his glass on the bar before he could ask for his usual.

  He took a deep breath and forced himself to make small talk, reflecting that he might need an alibi later. He finished the drink and banged the glass down for another but the landlord shook his head. ‘Sorry, Mr Spencer, no more spirits. You can have a beer.’

  James shook his head. He needed whisky. Perhaps he could get one at the Esplanade Hotel, he thought. Who knows, he might bump into the gorgeous Sally while he was there. Why shouldn’t he have a little fun? He’d be playing the grieving widower soon enough and there’d be no chance of fun for a while.

  He left the pub and strode along, deep in thought, wondering how soon he could force the house sale and get his hands on the money. Steyne House was on the way to the hotel and he was tempted to check on Louise. No, he thought, better keep away for a bit longer.

  As he walked past he noticed that the front door was ajar. Surely he’d locked it when he’d left earlier. He stepped into the hall and put his hand on the drawing-room door. His stomach lurched as he heard voices and he hesitated, schooling his face to register shock, concern, grief.

  His grip tightened and he took a deep breath. But as he grasped the doorknob a sound behind him caused him to whirl round.

  ‘You,’ he gasped. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I’m visiting my sister,’ Sarah said calmly.

  ‘Your sister?’

  ‘Didn’t recognize me, did you?’ Sarah gave a short laugh. ‘Don’t suppose it would have stopped you flirting even if you’d known.’ Her contemptuous gaze swept over him. ‘Anyway I should ask what you’re doing here. Come to view your handiwork?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked, stammering. ‘Is Louise all right? She’s been quite ill, you know. I must go to her.’ He made to open the door but Sarah stepped in front of him.

  ‘You didn’t seem too concerned about your wife earlier on.’

  ‘It didn’t mean anything – just a bit of fun,’ he stammered.

  ‘Fun? While your wife was lying here ill?’

  James recovered quickly. ‘I told you, it didn’t mean anything. What’s happened? Louise was all right when I left home this morning.’ He tried to push past her again but Sarah stood firm.

  ‘The doctor’s with her. He may be able to save her.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ The hysteria in his voice wasn’t feigned. Had Louise been saying anything? Panic began to set in and he almost regretted what he’d done. It was only because those thugs in Brighton were chasing him. Anyway, it was her fault. She’d tried to deceive him about the house. If she’d agreed to sell straight away this would never have happened.

  Louise had still been a little confused when giving her statement but Muriel was adamant that Louise never drank spirits and Andrew assured the sergeant that she’d never been prescribed sleeping tablets. ‘My uncle will confirm that,’ he said.

  The sergeant closed his notebook with a snap. ‘I think that’s all for now. I’ll come back tomorrow, Mrs Spencer. Meanwhile, I’d better have a chat with Mr Spencer.’ He turned to the constable. ‘You stay here in case he comes back.’

  At the sound of voices in the hall, he opened the door. ‘Ah, Mr Spencer, we’d like a word with you.’

  James made to push past. ‘I must see my wife,’ he said.

  ‘Not so fast. I’m going to take you in for questioning.’ The sergeant grasped his arm but James shook him off. ‘Constable,’ roared the sergeant.

  James took one look at the burly policeman and tried to run. As he reached the front door, Sarah stuck her foot out and he tripped, sprawling down the front step. The two policemen were on him in a flash, handcuffing him and leading him away.

  Louise looked up as Sarah came back into the room. ‘I can’t believe you’re here,’ she said, smiling through her tears. She glanced across to where Andrew was packing his medical bag. ‘I’m so lucky to have such friends and family.’

  Andrew turned to her. ‘Well, I’m afraid this friend must leave. I promised Uncle George I’d take surgery this evening.’

  ‘I must go too,’ Muriel said. ‘Anyway, you need time with your sister. I’m sure you’ve got lots of catching up to do.’

  ‘My car’s outside,’ Andrew said. ‘I’ll give you a lift.’

  When they’d gone, Louise started to cry. Sarah came and sat beside her. ‘It’s reaction,’ she said. ‘It’s probably only just beginning to sink in.’

  Louise shook her head. How could she tell her sister she was crying over Andrew? Had he really held her in his arms, stroked her hair, called her his love? Or had she still been hallucinating? She’d leaned on him, accepted the comfort of his arms. And then he’d left, scarcely saying goodbye.

  The sisters sat up long into the night filling in the years that had passed. Inevitably the talk turned to James and why he’d done what he did. ‘I don’t understand it,’ Louise said. ‘I would have agreed to sell the house if he’d given me a good reason. But I wasn’t going to be bullied into it.’

  ‘Perhaps he needed money,’ Sarah said.

  As they talked, the sisters realized that, despite their estrangement, the love they’d always felt for each other had never died. There were no recriminations as they began to understand that neither of them was at fault. ‘It was easy to blame the war for your letters not reaching me. I just didn’t want to believe that you’d cut yourself off from your old life,’ Louise said at last with a sigh.

  ‘I did the same. I kept telling myself you were jealous of my success. Greg told me off. He said there must be a reason you hadn’t been in touch. And then, when I got that official-looking letter asking for my signature on those papers, I knew something was up. Greg persuaded me to come home and sort it out. It took ages to arrange.’

  ‘Why didn’t he come with you?’

  ‘I didn’t want him to – in case you refused to see me. I’d have been embarrassed.’ Sarah gave a nervous laugh. ‘That’s me – thinking of myself again.’

  ‘Don’t be silly.’ Louise sat up straight and changed the subject. ‘When am I going to meet the wonderful Greg?’

  ‘Soon. I’ve got to go back to London and sort things out. I might get away with breaking my contract on compassionate grounds – it’s not every day your brother-in-law is arrested for attempted murder.’

  Louise bit her lip. ‘Will they find him guilty, do you think?’

  ‘Sure. That sergeant went though his desk and found some of my old letters still sealed, as well as yours to me – never posted. And what about that paper with our forged signatures all over it? He’d obviously been practising. I should think they’ve got enough evidence.’

  ‘And the pills,’ Louise said. ‘I mean, why would he put them in the aspirin bottle?’ She shuddered and her voice caught on a sob. ‘He must have been thinking about it ever since Mother died. I thought I’d thrown away all her old medicines but he must have hidden some away.’

  Sarah put her arm round her. ‘It’s all over now, Lou. He can’t hurt you any more. You can start all over again now – make a new life for yourself.’

  ‘New life? Church, WVS, queuing for rations? The only difference is I won’t be on pins and needles any more wondering what mood he’ll be in when he comes home.’

  ‘Don’t think about it, Lou. Think of the future.’

  Louise didn’t answer. She didn’t dare to think ahead. For those few moments when Andrew had held her in his arms she had dared to hope. But now…? Had she imagined the panic in his eyes as he struggled to revive her, his tender words as she responded?

  When Sarah turned up, closely followed by the police, he’d once more become the efficient professional doctor caring for his patient. Did he love her after all? And if he did, what difference did it make? She was still a married woman despite what James had done. It would be a long painful process before she was free of him.

  A week had gone by and Louise still hadn’t seen Andrew. Every time there was a knock on the door she started up, heart
thumping. If she could see him, she was sure she’d know instinctively if she’d imagined those tender moments in his arms. But he hadn’t been near. She must have been mistaken. Why else would he stay away?

  James was still in custody, charged with attempted murder, fraud and embezzlement. David Webster the solicitor had called to inform her of progress. ‘It seems your husband had been mixing with the wrong sort of people. He’d been gambling and couldn’t pay his debts.’

  ‘I knew he was worried but I thought it was the business,’ Louise said. ‘If only he’d confided in me – I would have helped him.’

  ‘I think he’d gone beyond that,’ Webster said sympathetically. ‘Just be thankful your friend and your sister turned up when they did.’

  Louise cleared her throat. ‘I need to talk to you about something,’ she said. ‘It’s about James and me.’ She couldn’t go on, couldn’t utter the word divorce. It went against all her principles. But how could she stay married to the man who had tried to kill her?

  David Webster smiled sympathetically. ‘I know what you mean. No rush. Make an appointment when you feel ready.’

  Muriel had gone back to work at the WVS centre. There’d been another bombing raid on the town and she was needed. Louise wanted to go with her but Mrs Wilson had insisted that she recover completely from her ordeal before coming back.

  Dr Tate called and told her she ought to be fit enough by the following week. She wanted to ask about Andrew but found herself unable to speak his name and the old doctor hadn’t mentioned him either.

  She got up from the table and moved around the room restlessly. Her relief at discovering she wasn’t going crazy had abated somewhat and she knew she’d have to start living a normal life again soon. One thing was certain; she no longer wanted to stay here. Her childhood home now held more unhappy memories than pleasant ones. I suppose I could go anywhere, she thought. But she’d no idea where. Andrew dominated her thoughts.