The solemn face allowed itself to laugh. ‘No, I was actually thinking of my wedding.’
‘A happy event that must have been then!’
‘I haven’t had it yet.’
‘What! No wonder you’re looking miserable. How long have you been married?’
‘Soft bugger, I mean I haven’t had the wedding. It takes place at the beginning of July. I was going to call and ask you to be my best man.’ Nat clicked his tongue at the horse and steered it out of the path of an army convoy. ‘I hope you’ll oblige. You’re the only friend I have – except for Talbot o’ course, and I don’t think they make morning suits with three legs in ’em.’
‘Best man?’ Noel wondered why on earth he should feel any reservation. He wanted Nat to be married, didn’t he? Then he and Bright could get on with their own lives. It was just something in the pit of his stomach…
Nat became uncomfortable at the odd way his friend was looking at him. ‘What’s the matter? Can’t you do it?’
The goggled face came to his senses. ‘I’d be delighted!’ To endorse this Noel honked his horn in approval. ‘Well, come on, tell me all about her. Is she rich? Is she pretty?’
‘So so.’ Nat shrugged.
‘You don’t seem very excited,’ observed the doctor, alternating his glance between Nat and the road ahead.
‘I’m getting married, not riding in the Grand National. Look out, you’re going to flatten that bloody thing! You silly bugger, get it on the pavement!’ His shout was for a man whose dancing bear had been performing a monotonous twirl in the road. ‘Still going on in this day and age! You want locking up, you do, cruel bugger!’ Many uncomplimentary remarks were exchanged between Nat and the owner of the dancing bear. ‘Fade away!’ Once past, the conversation reverted to Nat’s wedding. He decided to show a little more consideration for his bride to be. ‘Oh, she’s all right is Violet. A very pretty lass as a matter o’ fact. The war’s made me realize I need a wife and she’ll make as good a wife as any.’
Frowning, Noel sought confirmation. ‘But you are happy with this arrangement?’
‘As happy as I’ll ever be.’ Nat had everything he had always coveted; a big house and a garden like the one Mr and Mrs Scaum used to have, people under his command… but viewed from the angle of one who had achieved them the objects of his desire had become almost boring. What indeed was happiness? ‘Sometimes, I hate this bloody place.’ He looked around at the grim streets with their gloomy placards of war. How he still missed the wide open spaces of Canada and the sun beating down on his shoulders. They’d never have him back there, though.
The doctor had insufficient time to ask for enlightenment, but had a shrewd guess that Nat saw marriage in the same way that he did, as a convenience, but for very different reasons. ‘Well, just let me know what day, what time and I’ll be there. Congratulations, old pal. Have to go now, I’ll see you anon!’ Bashing several more honks from his horn, Noel sped off, though in some confusion over his feelings. If not wholly delighted with Nat’s information, it did at least mean that now the path to Bright’s heart was well and truly clear.
* * *
When he arrived at Fulford, which had been his intended terminus even before meeting Nat, he found her laughing. He threw his goggles down on the table and sat down by the open window in the kitchen, enjoying the breeze. ‘What’s tickled you?’
‘The chimney sweep.’ Bright gave another chuckle. ‘I don’t mean that literally. Twas just that he called me madam!’
‘What’s so funny about that?’ Noel rubbed at the marks on his face caused by the goggles and smiled upon her with fondness.
‘Well, look at me!’ She opened her arms.
His reply was warm. ‘I am, and you look wonderful.’ Her bosom was draped in a soft, coffee-coloured material that fell in gentle pleats from her waist. At her daughter’s behest she had had her tawny hair bobbed to match Oriel’s. ‘Every inch the lady you are.’
She was moved. ‘Oh, Noel, you’re lovely to me.’
‘No, you’re the lovely one. I’m sure my mother would think so too.’ He picked at the grey cloth of his trousers. ‘I wonder, could I take you to meet her some afternoon?’
This was most unexpected. Bright touched her hair, still not used to its shortness. ‘Why, yes…’ She came to sit nearby.
‘There is a reason.’ Noel sat forward on the hard kitchen chair, lacing his hands over his knees and taking a moment to phrase his words. ‘And it might be better if you heard it now before you speak to my mother. She’s… well, she can often be a little rude, and I don’t want her to put you off. This is idiotic!’ He jerked himself upright. ‘Let me get to the point. Bright, you know how fond I’ve become of you and Oriel don’t you?’ She nodded and permitted him to take her hand. ‘Will you marry me?’
It was no sensation. Once over the hurdle of their difference in station, Bright had been awaiting his proposal for some time. Keeping hold of his hand, she bent her head. ‘Thank you for asking, but – I can’t, Noel. I’m sorry, I can’t.’
‘But… why?’ He seemed devastated.
‘I can’t explain.’ She stroked the blond hair on the back of his hand with her thumb. ‘I think it’s just that I’ve got used to being on my own.’ Her chocolate-coloured eyes portrayed earnestness. ‘But if I were to marry anyone it would be you. You’re a lovely man, a great friend, and I’m very fond of you, you know that.’
Noel frowned. He had never considered rejection. ‘Is it because we’re of a different religion?’ He had been somewhat concerned himself over her Catholicism. ‘I’m willing to get married in your church.’ Though what his mother would say…
‘I hate to offend but I don’t think they’d have ye, Noel. They wouldn’t recognize the marriage. Anyway, it’s not that.’ How could she say I just don’t love you? Besides, she did love him, but not in the way that he wanted.
‘Is it the war? Perhaps when it’s over?’
‘I can’t make any promises, Noel.’
He withdrew his hand from hers, picked up his goggles and toyed with the strap. ‘But I don’t understand your reasons! Surely you can’t enjoy being alone, I know I don’t.’
Bright folded her hands in her lap. ‘Then, can I be rude and ask why you’ve never thought of marrying before, Noel? Surely you’ve met ladies who are more suited to be a doctor’s wife than I am.’
‘I’d never really thought about it until I met you.’ That was a lie. He had thought about it a great deal. He thought about how unnatural it was that he couldn’t find a woman he desired. He didn’t really fancy Bright in that way, but it wasn’t just to stop people nagging that he wanted to marry her. He wasn’t like Nat, using her for his own selfish purpose, he did genuinely care about her and want to look after her. Before she came along he had foreseen himself ending his days as a bachelor.
Bright frowned into his face. ‘Your eye looks red, is it sore?’
‘I’ve got conjunctivitis and don’t change the subject! You’re avoiding my question: do you like being alone?’
‘I’m not alone, I have Oriel.’
‘But that’s a different thing altogether! One day she’ll be married herself…’ A look of recognition came over his face. ‘It’s Nat, isn’t it? It’s because of what he did to you that you’re afraid to give yourself to anyone. Bright, I swear it wouldn’t be like that with me. I would never make you do anything you didn’t want to.’
‘Noel, it isn’t what you think!’ Bright squeezed his hands in earnest. ‘At least, it is partly true. I can’t give myself to you because I still feel deeply for Nat.’
He gave a cough of total disbelief. ‘How can you say that when he treated you as he did?’
‘I know, I know, I’m sure anyone would think I’m mad, I don’t understand it myself, but I can’t stop the way I feel about him.’
‘But you haven’t seen him for years! You’re living with a memory. That young boy doesn’t exist any more, he’s a man, and if I may sa
y so a man with not too good a reputation – besides, he’s spoken for.’
‘I know, you’ve told me!’ Bright covered her ears. ‘But I can’t help it, and I can’t marry you, Noel, I’m sorry but I can’t.’ She fled upstairs and locked herself in her room, not coming out until she heard the front door slam.
* * *
A more composed Noel returned that evening to offer profuse apologies. Oriel passed a quizzical glance at her mother, who had issued acceptance and invited him to eat with them. Noticing a veil of strange reserve over the normally friendly atmosphere, Oriel waited until after Noel had gone to ask her mother, ‘Have you two been having words?’
‘What makes you ask that?’ Bright made sure that the blackout curtain was properly drawn before turning on the gaslamps, their added illumination not required until now due to the light summer evening.
‘Noel said he’d come to apologize – what for?’ Oriel had changed into a pansy-coloured dressing gown.
Her mother continued to potter. ‘He asked me to marry him.’
‘What? But that’s wonderful!’
‘I turned him down.’ Bright smoothed the chenille table cloth, then sat down by the hearth.
‘Oh, why?’ The face inside the dark bob crumpled in disappointment. ‘He’s lovely.’
‘I know.’ Bright’s eyes were cast down to the rug. ‘But it wouldn’t be fair of me to marry him. I could never feel the same way about anyone the way I did about your father.’
‘You’re still waiting for him to come back,’ breathed Oriel. Then incredulity rose to outrage. ‘But he abandoned you!’ Bright looked up at the vehemence of her daughter’s exclamation but did not get time to speak. Oriel tugged the edges of her dressing gown more tightly across her bosom in a gesture of defence. ‘And he abandoned me! I hate him! And if you want to know why, it’s because he’s the reason I could never be a nurse, because I’m illegitimate. So there, now you know!’
An anguished Bright leaned forward and reached for her daughter. ‘That’s my fault as much as his, darling!’
‘Stop making excuses for him!’ screamed Oriel, recoiling from her mother’s hand. ‘He doesn’t want you and he doesn’t want me! All the time you thought he was in Canada he was here in York and never came to see us! And all you could do was make excuses for him, saying he was frightened. The coward! He doesn’t give one fig about us! And even if by some miracle he did wriggle out from under his stone and ask you to marry him, then you could say goodbye to me!’ Eyes red with tears, she fled from the room and pounded upstairs.
Bright remained in her chair and wept.
In time, her angry sobs abated, Oriel moved from the bed to her dressing table. Seizing a fountain pen, she used it as a weapon, the nib almost tearing the paper as it scratched out its venom: Dear Miss – Wait a moment! She paused to instruct herself; if he were married that would remove him from the scene as far as Mother was concerned. No, I don’t want him to be happy, I want to make him as miserable as I possibly can. Lowering pen to paper, she continued: Dear Miss Ward…
In the morning, before breakfast, she repented to her mother for her tone though not for her words. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you but I meant what I said, Mother. I find it inconceivable that you could still love a man who treated you like that.’
A puffy-eyed Bright set the table as normal, but she refused to look at her daughter and her hurt was tangible. ‘Then we must agree to differ.’
Oriel waited to be forgiven.
‘Sit down and eat,’ came the quiet order.
‘Mother—’
‘I don’t want to hear it mentioned again.’ Still refusing to look at her daughter, Bright picked up her spoon.
Oriel obeyed, but the meal was a painful affair and after gulping down only a few mouthfuls she excused herself, saying she had a letter to post on the way to work. The cheek she stooped to kiss was frigid, and throughout the day the memory of this kept driving her to the edge of tears. Her employer seemed unable to handle the change in her attitude and thus made himself scarce. This suited Oriel who, whilst she pounded on her typewriter, heaped mental blame upon him for her miserable state. Was he not satisfied with his desertion of her mother? Did he have to destroy everything? Well, she wouldn’t let him.
22
Dear Mr Prince, read Nat that morning over his breakfast, This is to inform you that our daughter is compelled to break off the intended matrimony with yourself… He frowned and stopped eating. You can, I am sure, appreciate the shock and humiliation that Violet has suffered at being duped, not to mention the outrage that we ourselves felt upon receiving the information that the young lady who is employed by you under the guise of secretary is in fact your illegitimate daughter. Oh shit! You will therefore understand our request that you are never to contact Violet again. Though the letter was finished, Nat had difficulty in believing what he had just read and stared down at the piece of paper. His first instinct was to visit the Wards and protest, but then did he really feel such loss? The liaison with Violet had been manufactured after all. He could always find someone else. Of more import was how she had found out about Oriel. Yet again he pored over the letter, which failed to mention in what form or by whose hand the information had been received. It was all very mysterious.
Each morning, when Oriel had arrived for work she had examined her father’s face for signs that her bombshell had landed. Today she thought she detected a slightly subdued air, but not an expression that told her he had been jilted. Surely her damning letter to Violet Ward must have arrived by now? Unless she had misread the address in her father’s notebook, for he was an atrocious writer. Maybe it was simply that Violet was wondering what to do about it. After a week Oriel could bear the suspense no longer and when the opportunity arose she grabbed it.
Nat had come into the room where she worked to inform her that he was going out. She glanced through the window. ‘It’s a beautiful day. Let’s hope the weather stays like this for your wedding – it can’t be far off now.’
Nat stroked his cleanly shaven lip in embarrassment. ‘I’m afraid there isn’t going to be a wedding. Miss Ward’s called off our engagement.’
‘Oh, I do beg your pardon! I had no wish to intrude on a personal matter!’ Oriel played with the ebony brooch at her throat. ‘Please accept my condolences.’
‘Thank you.’ Nat studied her face for a moment, still toying with his lip. There was something affected about her commiserations. The glint in her eye did not match the uttered sentiment. Still, why should she care? As far as Oriel was concerned she was only his employee. Saying goodbye he turned and left the room.
But his uneasiness remained. What if… what if Oriel had somehow found out she was his daughter but remained silent? His heartrate increased. What if the thought of her father marrying someone other than her mother made her angry and jealous? Would she not do anything to stop that marriage? What if, what if? I’ve never heard owt so daft, he told himself. If she’d found out surely she would have confronted you? Why, you haven’t dared to confront her, have you? No, but that’s the way I am. Other people are different, speak to each other of their fears and emotions. But she isn’t other people, she’s your daughter, maybe she’s just like you in that respect, maybe she can’t voice her feelings, she could have known you’re her father for ages. She must be a damned good actor then, he told himself, for she fooled you. Maybe he was just being fanciful, but oh at that moment he wanted desperately for it to be true! He wanted it to have been Oriel who had told Violet that she was his daughter, wanted to know that she felt strongly enough about him to reveal her shameful beginnings. From that day on he resolved to watch her more closely, though still he mentioned nothing of their natural bond, too afraid of losing her.
Oriel’s triumph over the sabotage of her father’s matrimonial plans did not bring as great a pleasure as she had anticipated. Yes, he was miserable, but then this quiet dark man was never exactly bursting with vigour. If she had hoped with this one a
ct to compel him to blow out his brains then she had failed. To bring about his total downfall would take a lot more planning.
The books had turned up a few interesting details. Acquainted with many of his transactions, for he had mentioned them in passing, she had been intrigued to learn that not all of these were to be entered in her ledgers. There was no record of them anywhere. Her investigations had also unearthed a hidden safe, the contents of which she guessed to be thousands of pounds. She could only assume that his purpose was to avoid supertax, for which he must surely be eligible, though she was unable as yet to substantiate this. She had also found other discrepancies in his accounts. Insignificant though each of these might be, she hoarded each particle of information to be employed as grist in the process of her enemy’s destruction.
Destruction on the Western Front prevailed upon another Christmas, though Oriel and those around her remained relatively untouched. It had once been a novelty for her and Bright to watch the aeroplanes take off from Knavesmire – her mother had even voiced a desire to go up in one – but now it had become an ordinary, everyday occurrence, as had all the other military movements in the city.
Christmas was a more expensive affair for everyone this year; the cost of all essentials had rocketed: coal, milk, bread, potatoes.
‘I really don’t know how the poor people are going to cope,’ quothed Oriel to her employer in response to his query about what she would be doing over Christmas. ‘Things are expensive enough normally. I don’t know how they manage. I feel really sorry for them.’
Nat watched her putting on her gloves, using any tactic to delay her, for he would not see her again for two whole days. ‘Aye, people’re having a rough time of it aren’t they?’ He had given up trying to match her polished accent. ‘I trust you and your mother won’t go short of anything?’
‘We’ll get by.’ Oriel smoothed the wrinkles from her gloves.
Shoddy Prince Page 53
