From A Distance

by Gloria Cook

  ‘Why? I thought you were angry with everyone. If Perry hadn’t come here to see me Libby would still be safely in London.’ Emilia jumped down the last step on the other side of the hedge. ‘Don’t you think I’m partly responsible for Libby’s tragedy?’

  ‘Perry can’t help being in love with you. I take no issue with that because I feel the same way.’ At Emilia’s impatient glare, she added, with a raised hand, ‘OK, you don’t want to hear that. Yes, I sometimes feel angry with you, no one likes rejection. But I’ll never blame you for what happened to Libby. Not you.’ But she did blame others, particularly Jonny Harvey. She had threatened and frightened him once when he was ten years old. Consequently Tristan Harvey had publicly humiliated her. Ben Harvey had taken a superior stance over her. Jim Killigrew had jeered at her. Because of it the whole village had rejected her and it had made Libby miserable. If she could settle some scores while she was here, she’d do it, as ruthlessly as she knew how.

  They were at the top of Long Meadow and Emilia gazed down to the stream. She laughed in relief. ‘There he is, stretched out and deep in thought.’

  Selina took a long look down at Alec. As Emilia made off for the descent she grabbed her. ‘Perhaps I should go down to him alone.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Alec doesn’t like you. You’re the last person he’d want to see.’

  ‘I like your blunt tongue,’ Selina said lightly, but she was careful to keep up with Emilia’s quick steps.

  ‘Alec! Alec!’ Emilia called out when halfway down. She wished Selina would remain at a discreet distance so she could talk privately to him about the reason behind his words in his very first letter to her.

  When they reached level ground, Selina stopped. She put a firm grasp on Emilia’s arm. ‘Emilia, I think you should stay here.’

  Emilia pushed her hand off. She was under attack from niggles of alarm. ‘Why? What on earth for? Alec!’ He was leaning strangely. ‘Alec, it’s time to come home for breakfast.’

  Selina again gripped her arm. ‘We’ll go to him slowly. Emilia…’

  ‘Why?’ She let Selina’s hand stay. ‘What are you trying to tell me?’

  ‘Can you see that Alec has no colour? My dear, you’re going to have to be very strong.’

  In fear, Emilia tried to wrench herself away but Selina clung on to her. ‘Slowly now.’

  One slow step at a time they went, along the well-worn path that was bordered by thistles, buttercups, daisies and nettles, to the stream. To Alec. Emilia’s eyes were rooted on him.

  He was still.

  So still.

  Unnaturally still.

  A numbing sense of unreality swept over her. She advanced on her husband in the care of a woman she loathed, but who right now she was clinging to for help, for support, for strength.

  They reached Alec and as if in slow motion knelt down beside him.

  ‘Alec,’ Emilia said. ‘Darling.’ She touched his hand. It seemed frozen. With eyes as huge as a frightened child’s she turned to Selina.

  ‘I’m very sorry, Emilia. He’s gone. By the look of him it was peaceful.’

  Shock settled on Emilia. She felt she was suffocating in ice. ‘He’s…?’

  ‘Dead. Yes, he is. Don’t be afraid. He wasn’t. Look at his calm expression.’

  Last night, the letter, it all made sense now. What sort of sense she was too numb to say. ‘He – he knew, didn’t he? He knew he was going to die and he knew it would be today?’

  ‘It seems he did.’ Selina reached forward and closed Alec’s eyes. ‘Ben will come to find us. Would you like to stay with Alec until he comes? I’ll step away, leave you together.’

  ‘Yes.’ Emilia’s voice sounded far away, as if it didn’t belong to her. ‘I’d like to hold him.’

  Taking Alec’s head and shoulders into her arms, alone with him, with tears flooding from her eyes, she told him how much she loved him and always would. ‘I’m sorry, darling. You were suffering, weren’t you? Suffering a lot. You should have told me, but never mind. It’s the way you wanted it and that’s fine with me. The boys and Lottie are going to miss you so much. I’ll take good care of them, I promise. Thank you for the letter. I’ll treasure it always. What a wonderful man you were. I’ll remind the children of it always. I dreamt of Jenna last night. I’ll bury you beside her. It’s what you would have wanted, isn’t it? You and Jenna, together again at last.’

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Vera Rose climbed up into the attics at Roskerne. Jonny was there. It was one of his favourite places, amid clutter from the Stockley past. In his black suit and tie, he was leaning forward on an old sea chest, his elbows dug into his knees. Cigarette ends were piling up in the ashtray in the palm of one hand and a nearly empty bottle of vodka was dangling from the other.

  He gulped down another mouthful of drink, drew in on the cigarette between his lips then exhaled noisily, screwing up his eyes against the smoke. ‘If you've come to tick me off you can turn straight back round and bugger off.’

  ‘I’ve come to join you. Can I have a cigarette? And a swig from the bottle?’

  ‘No, you bloody well can’t.’ He swayed and it took an effort to check his balance.

  Vera Rose parked herself on a low leather square stool, close up and facing him. This was how they had sat during childhood games, Jonny always the leader, on a higher par than her and any other playmate. ‘I can’t make you give me a cigarette or a drink but you can’t stop me from damned well swearing.’

  He allowed his stunning slate-grey eyes to focus on her. ‘What do you want, Vee?’

  ‘I just want to be with you. I know how close you were to Uncle Alec. Aren’t you going to take off your suit? It will get grimy up here.’

  ‘As if that matters! God, I hope I never have to go to another funeral for the rest of my life. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do today. Aunty Em’s face – she looked so lost, so small. And the boys. They can’t take it in. Thank God Lottie’s too young to understand. And to be there with Perry Bosweld – good of him to come, but oh Lord, so soon after Libby… And later, I saw Selina. She never spoke to me, she just stared as if she hated me, well, I can’t blame her for that. Hell and damnation, Vee! Why are people dying all around us?’ He took another gulp of vodka, swiping drips off his chin.

  ‘Libby’s death was an act of desperation. Perry made enquiries at her school, she was being shamelessly bullied. I don’t expect she could face going back there. At least Perry and his sister have been spared the full reason of why Libby ran into the sea. It’s something we must forget. And if it wasn’t that, then something else was bound to have brought her life to an unbearable level. That poor girl might have attempted to take her life at any time. She’s at peace now, I’m sure. And Jonny, listen to me, Uncle Alec’s death was inevitable. He had a brain tumour. What you must cling to was how brave he was.’

  ‘The world is worse off without him. I’m worse off without him. I thought he’d be there when I graduate, and at my passing-out parade after my RAF training. He won’t be here for anything I do from now on. It’s not bloody fair. He was only forty-one years old, for goodness sake!’

  Vera Rose leaned closer to Jonny. ‘Yes, but he did a lot with those years. He raised Uncle Ben single-handed. He worked tirelessly through the war years with very little labour to keep food on the country’s tables, and during that time he stopped you from being abducted – goodness knows where you would be otherwise, if your mother and her man friend had managed to get you away – and Uncle Alec was your security until Uncle Tris resigned from the army. Uncle Alec loved you as much as he did his own sons and he had the highest hopes for you. What you’ve got to do now is to honour his memory. It won’t hurt to get hopelessly drunk today, but after this you must work hard to do everything that would have made him proud of you. I know it will be hard for you returning to university after all that’s happened, but you’ve got to knuckle down when you go back up.’

  Jonny put out a sh
aky hand and tugged on her hair. ‘I wish I saw things as simply as you do, Vee. You’re a lovely, uncomplicated girl.’

  ‘You used to see things in easy terms, Jonny. Meeting Angeline Johnson has muddled you. Were you in love with her?’

  ‘No, I shall never fall in love. Don’t want to. I was attracted to the image I had of Angeline. It was a pretty shallow trick of hers, running out on us like that. I’ll never trust another woman as long as I live. Do you know what? I’ve talked to the hotel manager. He believes Christine was actually Angeline’s child, fathered by a married man. This chap phoned her every night; you remember how she always wanted to get back at a certain time. Well, you’d think it would be the mother to enquire about her child. Must be why Angeline fussed so much over the girl, there was an obvious strong bond. And come to think of it, did you ever hear Christine called her Miss Johnson? No!’ Throwing back his head, Jonny finished off the vodka, then he allowed the bottle to drop and topple over on to the wooden floor. Drunk and morose and full of indignation, he let out an obscene phrase. ‘Devious, that woman was. Played me for a fool. Wasn’t interested in me at all. She chatted to you nearly as much as she did me but I never saw it. She just wanted some company for herself and Adele for Christine. I thought she liked me. She was a bloody tease. I didn’t even get to…’

  Vera Rose was pleased the nanny, after giving a statement to the police, had scampered out of the area the same day as the tragedy, but she was disappointed that it had made Jonny cynical about women and even more determined to keep a watch on his heart. She was wasting her time being in love with him, and now she supposed it was no more than infatuation that she’d felt, in the same way poor young Libby had. The trouble was that a clever, gorgeously handsome man, with a strong masculine body, who was not short on charm and charisma, bred hope and dreams that were almost impossible to resist. ‘Get what, Jonny? Get to go to bed with her? Why is that sort of thing so important to you?’ She already knew what his answer would be.

  ‘I bloody well enjoy it,’ Jonny squawked impatiently, as if answering something stupid. ‘Now don’t come out with all that guff about giving all of myself away, tender moments and emotional mishmash. Sex is sex. It’s wonderful. And despite what the romantics and religious preach, I find casual encounters absolutely bloody fulfilling.’

  ‘Angeline would have meant more to you than that though, wouldn’t she?’

  Jonny pressed against his pockets, searching for his cigarette case. ‘Nah, not really. I don’t think so. Who knows? Who cares? Might have been my first relationship, but it wouldn’t have lasted. I’m too young to think about that sort of thing and I’m definitely not made for monogamy. If you ask me few people are. Too many married couples stay together simply because they think they have to or because they’ve nowhere else to go or they’re too frightened to make the break. Sad situation, I say.’

  ‘My mother is happily married to your father, they’re in love. And so were Uncle Alec and Aunty Em.’ Vera Rose thought it worthwhile to mention that there was another side to life than just selfish enjoyment, that commitment and loyalty should not merely be scoffed at.

  Jonny made a throwaway gesture. ‘My mother left my father and died giving birth to her lover’s baby, remember? Uncle Alec had a bitch of a first wife, apparently. Uncle Ben and Aunt Brooke aren’t happy at all, even though they’re hoping this latest sprog will turn out to be a son and heir. Have you noticed their body language? There’s enough married misery in our own family, Vee. You’ll never convince me life-long togetherness is worth it.’ With shaking fingers, Jonny lit another cigarette. He narrowed his eyes at his cousin-stepsister. ‘Have you… ? No, don’t answer that. You’re a decent girl and I’m jolly glad you are. And if you’re ever seduced, I’d be obliged to track the swine down and give him a thorough thrashing.’

  ‘You’ve double values, Jonny, and you talk a lot of nonsense.’ Vera Rose got up.

  ‘W-where’re you going?’ He didn’t want to be alone. To think about his uncle’s last minutes. To wonder if he had been in unbearable pain, frightened, lonely. Had he felt deserted? Utterly forsaken?

  ‘There’s not much use in staying with you while you’re like this. Try not to let Uncle Tris see you. Don’t forget how upsetting all this has been for him too. I think you should sober up and go to the farm for a few days before heading back to your studies. Aunty Em needs all the practical help she can get. I’m going over to Truro myself at the end of the week. Louisa will be back. She phoned to say she was sorry that she and her Aunt Polly missed the funeral.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to seeing Louisa again. The old gang will be back together for a while. Stay here a bit longer, Vee.’

  She was in no mood for more of his woes, or the boastful reminiscences he’d probably embark on at the mention of Louisa Hetherton-Andrews – his shy little thing from town, he called her – and he playfully teased her endlessly by calling her Lou-Lou, which she bore patiently. Louisa had a birthmark on her face, which she was sensitive about. Jonny had once thoughtlessly said she must play a witch in one of his games because she had the mark of the Devil. Louisa had been hurt and Jonny had apologized profusely and made it up to her by splashing out a month’s pocket money on a Celtic cross pendant, which Louisa wore often. He still loved to tease her. Vera Rose saw Jonny for what he was then, a likeable, immature youth, sometimes selfish and irritating.

  She stalked away, but Jonny shifted and she fell over his legs. He caught her and she instinctively flung her arms round his neck to get steady. ‘Mmm, you smell nice,’ Jonny murmured, holding her firmly, wrapping her in to himself. ‘You always smell so nice and fresh and so you, Vee.’

  ‘Do I? Let me go.’

  ‘No, I need you to stay. Please.’ Then he was crying. He needed to express his grief and she hugged him, allowing him to cry against her neck.

  He sobbed and shook for some moments, then placed the side of his face against the side of hers. ‘Thanks for that. I’m glad you came up.’

  ‘Make Uncle Alec proud of you, Jonny,’ she whispered, overcome with emotion herself.

  ‘I will. I swear.’ His arms were around her and he interlocked his fingers with hers, bringing her fast against him. ‘You feel so soft, Vee.’

  She knew she should break away, but now she was in Jonny’s arms it was the most wonderful place to be. He moved his hands and clasped them round her in a different area of her body. They stayed like that, everything silent except for the sound of their deep breathing.

  She moved until she was looking up at his chin, then she went a little further until she was gazing at his mouth – such a full, firm, sensuous mouth – and then she was looking straight into his eyes. Shameless, his eyes were, and uninhibited. The darkness in them seemed to have wicked flecks of gold. It made her want to be just like that, free and easy, not just good old sensible Vera Rose, the girl who had never given her mother a day’s worry. And Jonny was beautiful. He could have just about any woman he wanted, but right now she had him all to herself. She settled down against him again, and although not moving, she smelled him and made herself familiar with his masculine shape. He was remarkable, seemingly unbreakable, strong and tough.

  Jonny began to caress her back. It was good to hold a woman again. Even Vee. He loved the soft contours of the female body and Vee’s was nicely curved. He was aware of her breasts against his chest, her arms draped over him, her long silky legs; one was bare up to the thigh where her skirt was bunched up. She sighed. Such an innocent sound yet wholly provocative. She stirred. And it stirred him in the way he liked best.

  He knew he should relinquish her but he couldn’t help himself. She felt so warm and alive. He pecked her forehead. He kissed her cheek. She didn’t respond but she didn’t pull away from him either. So he sought her lips. He tilted her chin and quickly found her mouth.

  Vera Rose had enjoyed his earliest exploration and was hoping he would take it further. She raised her face with the motion of his hand and she
closed her eyes for the first contact of their lips. He didn’t disappoint her. Gentleness and expertise mingled on her lips. She had never been kissed this way before. There had only been a shy good-night kiss from a boy who had escorted her home from a dance, but this was different. And now he was adding passion. It was decadent, earth-shattering, intoxicating. Something unquenchable, something she didn’t want to stop. She gripped his hair and moved her mouth under his, with his, against his, as if she had done this with him a thousand times.

  Jonny put a hand over her heart. He felt it thumping. He felt the heat of her skin under her clothes. He slid his fingers down her body and placed his palm over her stomach. He massaged there. She didn’t protest. He went on with his demanding kisses. Slowly, so slowly that she would hardly realize what he was doing, he pulled her blouse out of her skirt, then he slid his hand inside the blouse and up over her chemise until he hit the glorious bare skin up near her neck. He ran a feather-light touch down the column of her spine, and got the return he was hoping for, a little shiver, and another and another; she was enjoying his touch. He took his hand out from her clothes and used it to caress her face. She was flushed. Without knowing it, she had uncurled herself, responding to him, and he had greater access to her body.

  ‘All right?’ he whispered, pecking her forehead.

  She nodded, incapable of speech at that moment, knowing only that he was breeding wonderful sensations in her and she should flee. But she wanted to stay like this with him for ever. He picked up her hand and kissed it; he was so tender and loving. He trailed a fingertip underneath her eye, down beside her nose, down over her lips, then her chin and throat. Kissing her mouth again, he played the backs of his fingers a little lower down than where he had gone before. He went lower and lower, turning his hand over and going on with the descent inside her chemise. She knew where his journey was heading and she should grasp his hand and tell him to stop. But she didn’t. And his hand crept inside her brassiere and she leapt in a strange, fantastic bliss as his warm, rough flesh closed over her bare flesh. Her breasts were in perfect proportion with the rest of her figure and were firm and smooth, so she had no fears he wouldn’t like what he’d found.