Wally came round her, put her hands on her face and gazed into her eyes. ‘I think I love you, Sara. You’re the most beautiful, most special girl that ever there was.’
She looked at Wally’s lips. How many times had she looked at Alec’s and longed for him to kiss her. To make love to her, fully, doing everything, and doing it in this very room. She had known she could only have ever been his mistress, but she would have gloried in that distinction. He might have taken her away from here, set her up in a little house somewhere, where they could have loved and dreamed two or three times a week. She had even been prepared to have his children. She looked closer at Wally’s lips. They weren’t full and dark red and sensuous like Alec’s, but they did not repulse her either.
Wally brought his face close and, after hesitating, he kissed her dry, lonely mouth. Comforted by the contact, needing someone, she responded. Wally had courted a girl or two before, so he knew how to kiss. It felt warm and pleasant. And because she had rehearsed what she would do if Alec finally kissed her, she automatically moved her lips under Wally’s and let her body fall against his. With her arms hanging on to him they kissed, rocking slightly, and this brought them into each other ever more intimately.
‘You’re beautiful. I do love you,’ Wally moaned against her mouth, before sliding his lips down over her chin and her neck.
Just as she had done in her fantasies, she crooned back, ‘I love you too.’
‘You do?’ Wally’s head shot up, he looked into her eyes, his own warmly grey and smoky. ‘Oh, Sara, that’s wonderful! This means we’re engaged. Just a minute.’
‘Why?’
He kept hold of her waist while he rummaged in his inside jacket pocket. ‘I was hoping to give you this tonight. Can’t believe I’m actually doing it now. It belonged to mother. She wanted you to have it, if you’d have me. She’s going to be so pleased.’
Sara took the ring he held up between his thumb and forefinger, a diamond solitaire on a decorated gold band. ‘Father had it made specially for her. It’s in perfect condition because she’s only ever worn it on special occasions.’
For a moment Sara thought she was under a spell, which was making her behave foolishly out of character. In a flash of panic she made to push Wally away from her, to order him out of the house, out of her life. Then she saw the great Victorian bed, and remembering Alec didn’t want her on it with him, she decided she knew exactly what she was doing. She gave the ring back to Wally.
‘Don’t you want it?’
‘Put it on for me.’
She felt Wally’s great sigh of relief ripple through her own body. She studied the ring. ‘It’s beautiful.’
Wally kissed her. He turned the kiss into a long, deep happening, in which he explored the sweetness inside her mouth. Then he pounced on her neck, pushing down the soft filmy material of her best dress to taste and kiss her shoulder. Sara felt him unfasten the tiny pearly button at the back of the dress.
Wally began to breathe noisily. He put a hand over her breast. She pushed it off. ‘’Tis all right, isn’t it?’ he breathed against her ear, nibbling the lobe. ‘We’re engaged.’ He made it sound like a wondrous achievement, and for an orphan from the workhouse it was. So she let him put his hand back and keep it there and move it to her other breast.
Somehow they had shifted towards the bed and suddenly they were tumbling down on it. Sara let him keep on kissing her. When his hands strayed, taking the most daring of liberties, she didn’t stop him – instead she shifted her limbs to allow him freer access. For he was a gentle soul, tormenting her slowly, and then quickly, and she was filling up with heat, a heat a hundredfold more intense than what she had conjured up alone, when dreaming, when aspiring, and the maddening heat was burning its way through her and seemed to have a need of its own.
Wally reared over her. Sara lay still but breathing greatly, willing him to progress before the timidity in her, the fear for her self-respect, the fear of consequences, became stronger in force than the desire to have her fiery needs fulfilled.
Wally threw off his jacket, snatched at his bootlaces and wriggled off his boots. He looked down on her. He spent a brief time kissing and touching her then he mounted her. She felt his heavy bones sticking into her. ‘Don’t be afraid.’ His voice came raw and husky.
‘I’m not.’ She wasn’t afraid but she had grown chilled, all desire and mysteries had come to a sickening halt for her and she did not want this now. But she was not going to stop it happening.
She reached up and gripped the brass rails behind her head and took Wally’s weight, his closeness, and the pain of his urgency. He was a little rough, through lack of know-how, she guessed, but he went on instinctively. And instinctively, she moaned and knotted her face, pretending to enjoy the wildness as much as he was. Looking up at the ceiling, then casting her sight downwards and sideways, taking in the opulent satin bedcover, wrinkled and rucked under its illicit use, she didn’t care how long Wally laboured away inside her. This submission was her gift to him.
He fell suddenly and lay on her, panting softly, needing her differently, needing comfort from her, and her forgiveness for hurting and sullying her, and she held his cheek tenderly against her breast.
‘I love you, Sara,’ he gasped, as if in dread and wonder, as if he had discovered some awesome secret. ‘That was, that was…’
‘Yes, it was, Wally. Because we’re in love.’ Of course she didn’t love him, not yet anyway, perhaps she never would, but she would try to, in gratitude for everything he was to give her. She caressed Wally’s commonplace, damp hair and smiled. She had just assured her own and Jim’s future and that was something to be joyful about. Wasn’t it? She was a proper grown-up woman now. She had achieved a measure of freedom and from now on she would strive always to make decisions for herself.
I don’t need counterfeit love from you, Alec Harvey. Mr Harvey! I don’t need your employment and I don’t need your roof.
But behind her smile, urgent tears were building up. ‘I’ll straighten the bed, Wally. I know exactly how it goes. Can you give me a minute?’
Wally placed one last kiss on her hot, moist face, eased himself off her and gathered up his jacket and shoes. ‘I’ll um, I’ll wait for you downstairs, my love.’
After the minute she had asked for, the loneliest minute of her life, Sara saw to the bed then slipped up to her own room to change her dress.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
This was the first year of her life that Emilia had not shared in the excited buzz of the sports day. She was trying to enjoy being with those she loved and the greater village family, but she felt no part in the intimacy of friends and neighbours as they mingled gaily in carefree summer clothes, while buying cakes to take home, or sweets and ice cream, or roamed to and from the beer tent or refreshment marquee.
She had cheered and exclaimed throughout the children’s races, called congratulations to the winners and encouragement to the runners-up. But in her trim black skirt, black shoes and stockings, her square-necked white blouse, a black silk scarf round her neck, her coppery-brown hair pinned up, her eyes kept wandering to the banner raised up above the platform after she had left the morning’s preparations. THE JENNA HARVEY MEMORIAL SPORTS DAY.
It was time for tea and there was a break in the events to allow for the workers to arrive. Emilia was sitting on a bale of straw at a good vantage point to watch the races, in the welcome shade of a row of towering elms which were incorporated in the high natural hedge behind, beyond which were the school premises. Tom was curled up on her lap, tucking into his lemonade and face-sized, yellow, thickly fruited saffron bun, making crumbs on her lap and all over his delighted little face, tugging off pieces of bun and offering them to her, which she nibbled off his thumb and forefinger and thanked him for and kissed him every time.
Will was devouring his bun on the rug at her feet, Libby beside him, grasping hers timidly, uninterested in it. Selina was on the bale, very close to her, co
axing Libby to eat, and Perry was next to Selina, in his wheeled chair for ease of comfort. Edwin, Dolly and Winifred were close by on chairs, drinking tea fetched for them by Jonny, who had since disappeared. Vera Rose was with Tristan, looking grown-up, pleased and important on the arm of her second-cousin-cum-stepfather, basking in the mutual affection that was theirs, as they chatted to Ben and Brooke beside the dancing platform.
Everyone was there except Alec, and Emilia felt lost without him – yet, setting aside the guilt of having an affair, of loving someone more than she did him, her sadness was cut deeper by the reality of having to end it very soon with Perry, and by the fact that he knew it without her having to tell him. His bearing was slung low, brimming with hurt. And the inexplicable shunning of his archery set-up exacerbated his hurt. Few people had taken part in it, and Emilia had watched in horror when children who had come near out of curiosity had been pulled away smartly by their parents and scolded. Some people had been offhand towards Perry, many more had been downright rude to Selina, and Libby, it seemed, was now not welcome to mix with most of the children.
Only Mrs Chellow had offered Selina a half-hearted ‘Good afternoon.’
‘What’s going on? What have we done?’ Selina had demanded from the woman.
Mrs Chellow had shaken her head and would only say, ‘It don’t matter to me, Miss Bosweld.’
Burning with hurt and indignation on the Boswelds’ behalf, Emilia had helped them pack the archery gear into the trap. Perry had wanted to leave, but Selina insisted they stay, laughing as if she didn’t care about the snubs, while muttering something acid under her breath.
She had returned the curious glances of Dolly and Winifred, and Tilda when she came by, with blunt brush-offs. She was quiet now. The music, a spirited mix of brass instruments, fiddles, accordions and drums, started up again, people became even more animated, and she was taking it all in, smoking in curt puffs and strident exhalations, her eyes turning a vicious violet. When Libby passed the unwanted saffron bun up to her, she tossed it behind the bale.
Wishing Selina would show more restraint for Libby’s sake, Emilia shifted away from her, but Selina shuffled up, closing the gap. The strength of the sun had waned and the atmosphere was fresh and light yet Emilia felt she could hardly breathe. She was finding the sweet, strong smells of cut grass, the rich earth and wild foliage almost stifling, and she longed for the cool evening air and refuge of a darkening sky.
Jim sauntered up to them. ‘’Scuse me, Mrs Em, how much longer do you think Sara’ll be? Milking should’ve been over ages ago.’
‘Well, she ought to be here any minute then, Jim. Don’t worry. You know how Sara takes ages getting ready to go out nowadays. You look very smart. How did you get on bowling for the piglet?’
Jim beamed and squared his shoulders manfully. ‘Scored most points so far. I’ll be taking that little beauty back home, if old Mr Quick and Hector Skewes don’t raise an edge to their bowling.’
He grinned wickedly straight at Selina and she took an angry intake of breath. Emilia caught her own breath. It was easy to see Jim was enjoying his former lover’s rejection and Selina was trembling, so Emilia thought, with fury, and Emilia feared she might issue an unladylike retaliation.
‘Alec’s taking his time too, isn’t he?’ The impatience, almost an accusation, in Selina’s accent was all too evident.
Dismissed, but jubilant, Jim swaggered off.
‘We’re going, Selina,’ Perry said suddenly, sucking in his breath.
‘We are not!’
‘You’re about to blow your top. I don’t want Libby to witness a scene.’
‘No one, absolutely no one is going to force me to skulk away from here. You don’t have to stay, Perry. I’m not leaving until I find out what’s going on.’
‘Why don’t you ask someone, particularly Daphne Dowling?’ Perry, confrontational, offended, asked his sister. ‘All this has something to do with her, and with you probably.’
He cast Emilia an apologetic look steeped in hopelessness, then reached over Selina’s knee and tapped gently on Libby’s head. She had gone stiff all over, and Will and Tom were staring at the adults, nonplussed. ‘Libby, darling, come to Daddy. We’re going home.’
Alec drove his reliable Ford Coupe into the field just then and Perry stayed put. The motor car jolted over the dried-earth ruts at the entrance and swayed like some refined chugging monster down the field. Alec stopped the car as near as he could to the spectators’ seats. With the help of Elena, he offloaded his elderly and infirm passengers. Two men in shiny-worn suits and wing collars, retired brothers, former employees of Ford Farm, dwellers in one of his rented cottages, were grinning broadly, feeling their conveyance here by the squire had upped them to a position of some esteem. Jim, hovering nearby, shot out his arm to escort a petite, bent, dark-clad, bonneted nonagenarian, wielding a fearsome walking stick and a moth-eaten handbag, to a chair cleared in her honour. While Elena attempted conversation with the hard-of-hearing Widow Bennett, who was trembling a little due to her very first journey in a motor car, he dashed off to buy, at his own expense, a tray of three cream teas.
Will ran to his father and Alec swung him up on his shoulders. ‘Well, son, how did you get on in the races? Daddy’s sorry he had to miss yours and Tom’s events but the beasts had to be seen to. You know that, don’t you?’ Although the scar from the dog bite on Will’s leg had healed ages ago Alec glanced at it as if to reassure himself of the fact.
Will held on proudly to his father’s upraised hands. ‘I know, and I know you like for the workers to come as early as they can. I came second in the egg and spoon race and joint third with Tom in the three-legged. Tom couldn’t get his legs to work with mine, even though we’d practised hard. But, Daddy, I’ve won a first! I ran faster than anyone else in the fifty yards. I won my first sixpence all to myself. Tom fell in the sack race, he’s so clumsy.’
Alec grinned, proud and satisfied to the ends of his soul over his sons’ achievements. ‘I don’t suppose Tom was in the least bit concerned about the fall.’
‘No, he just got up and stood there and giggled and giggled. Like a girl,’ Will finished in disgust.
Alec searched and found his younger son, so good-humoured and simplistic, where he expected him to be, joined to his mother, the mother he adored and was so proud to be with. Tom’s mother, his wife, lovely, courageous Emilia. Alec’s love for her took on a new depth in that moment. Emilia had saved him from a life of loneliness and misery, and he had come so close to betraying her. A part of him, the base nature in him, recognized that he still wanted Sara Killigrew. He put the matter of having to move her out of the farm aside for now.
His eyes fell on Perry Bosweld. Why was he so down in the dumps? There had been something about the Boswelds in the back of his mind for some time, like an itch in his subconscious, which he had been meaning to scratch, to explore. Something was wrong. Something was going on. Perry seemed a fine, decent chap, he made good company, he had been a rock to Emilia; a Godsend to them both, diagnosing Jenna’s problems, giving them the chance to spend her last moments with her. But his sister… there was something insidious and dark about that woman. He would keep watchful for now, but the days of the Boswelds living in his property were numbered. Having them there was unsettling and all he wanted for his family was to know peace and security.
Will leaned down to Alec’s ear and said cajolingly, ‘Daddy?’
‘I know what’s coming, son.’ Alec was nothing but indulgent.
‘How much can we have? Me, Tom and Jonny and the girls too.’
Bringing Will down to the ground with such an exaggerated swing that it made an exciting whooshing, Alec placed a pound note in Will’s hand and closed his fist round it. ‘Equal shares for all now, and don’t tell your mother how much I’ve given you. Where’s Jonny? I suppose he won every race he entered?’ Alec hoped he had not sneaked off for a smoke.
‘Of course he did. He’s got a trophy.
He’s about somewhere.’ And Will tore off to find him, clasping the pound note as tightly as if it was precious gold.
Alec joined the rest of his family. He parked himself closely on Emilia’s other side, kissed her, hugging her tightly, keeping his arm round her. Selina was up so far to her he felt the back of his hand resting against her fuller body. He did not like the woman monopolizing Emilia, being so familiar. He ruffled Tom’s hair and Tom patted his large, rough hand. ‘Well done, son, on coming third in the three-legged race.’
‘Where’s Will gone?’
‘Where do you think? You’d better be quick.’
The promise of sweets and the fear of his brother scoffing some of his share made Tom abandon his beloved mother and hare off to the shop stall. ‘Come on, Libby!’
Alec laughed. ‘Now if Tom applied himself to the races in the same way he’d come out a winner every time.’
Emilia shivered inside. Her lap felt cold with Tom gone.
Unsettled by the antagonism shown to her and her family, Libby stayed with her father, whispering to him that she wanted to go home. Emilia leaned round Selina to give her a reassuring smile but her little face was pressed into Perry’s neck.
Alec gazed up at the banner bearing his daughter’s name and stayed silent awhile, his thoughts his own. ‘Are you all right, darling?’
‘I’m fine, Alec.’
‘You’re looking lovely, Winnie. You’re blooming like a huge beautiful flower.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment, cousin.’ Winifred’s answer was restrained due to the awkward situation. ‘I’m looking forward to the tug of war.’
‘Ben and his team don’t stand a chance.’ Alec was a little aggressive in his boast. He glanced at the Bosweld brother and sister. ‘Hello. Why the long faces? Libby’s doesn’t look happy either.’
‘We don’t feel welcome here,’ Perry replied, and he sounded so miserable, so hurt and offended, it was an effort for Emilia not to jump up and go to him. In turn, he was thinking wretchedly that if not for Emilia, he would pack up and leave Hennaford tonight. His despair plunged to an even deeper level, for part of him for one terrible moment wished he had already endured the final parting with her.
Moments of Time Page 25
