by Nancy Carson
‘Are you still in love with him?’
She sighed, hesitating to answer for a moment. ‘I suppose I am…Oh, I know it’s futile, and in time I’m sure my feelings will fade. They say nothing lasts forever.’
‘Thank you for being honest with me, Aurelia. But tell me – how do you live?’
‘I’m not sure what you mean,’ she said.
‘I mean money. How do you manage? Does Benjamin pay you any alimony?’
‘Benjamin? Are you joking?’
‘So how do you manage?’
‘Algie is a very decent and generous man, Clarence. He acknowledges Christina as his daughter, knows he was the reason Benjamin divorced me, so he feels obliged to support me, and he does. He’s never shied away from what he sees as his responsibilities. I’m grateful to him, because I have no other means of support.’
‘No strings attached?’
‘I thought I’d already made that plain.’
‘Hmm,’ Clarence murmured doubtfully. ‘You’ll forgive me for saying so, but it all sounds like the typical arrangement for a kept mistress.’
‘Well, I suppose it’s true that I am a kept woman, Clarence, but I assure you I’m no longer his mistress.’
‘Hmm,’ he uttered again. ‘But, in the circumstances, paying for your keep is hardly being noble. It’s merely facing up to his rightful obligations, which is no more than he should do.’
‘I like to think he’s doing it because he wants to,’ she said, prepared to defend Algie. ‘Indeed, Marigold might well resent the situation – although she would never admit as much – but that wouldn’t stop him.’
‘Well, in future, Aurelia, I would be very much obliged if you would perhaps rely on me for support. I’d be more than happy to support you, and I rather believe I can afford to be more generous than Algie Stokes.’
‘Oh, Clarence,’ she sighed. ‘You’re very kind, and I thank you, but how can I possibly accept? I’m aware that you and Algie have had your differences, but I’d hate to think of there being more antagonism on my account – and there would be, because he would resent it. He’d regard your involvement as interference.’
‘But since you don’t belong to him – since your affair is dead anyway, as you claim – then he has no right to any say in the matter.’
She shrugged. ‘Except for the fact of his being Christina’s father.’
‘Oh, that,’ he said dismissively. ‘Anyway, perhaps it’s because of you that the antagonism between him and me arose in the first place.’
‘Oh? How d’you mean?’
‘Because I resented, and still resent, the fact that he got so close to you, that you evidently felt something strong for him.’ He shrugged. ‘I was jealous, I suppose. It pained me a great deal. And I ask you – was it all worth it?’
‘How do you expect me to answer that, Clarence?’
‘Honestly,’ he said.
‘Very well, since you ask – to me, it was all worth it. Now, I miss him terribly,’ she admitted. ‘But you see, I have his adorable child. May I ask you a pertinent question?’
He smiled. ‘Please do.’
‘You lost Harriet – tragically. I know you thought the world of her and it’s easy to understand why. Do you miss her terribly, like I miss Algie? Do you still love her?’
‘I do miss her terribly,’ he admitted. ‘She was a remarkable girl.’
‘I presume you were in love with her, then.’
He hesitated, allowing himself time to muster his words. ‘Love comes in varying degrees, Aurelia, depending on the object of your love,’ he said. ‘I loved her, yes – to a high degree – but never to the same degree that I was in love with you.’
The admission affected her, although she tried not to show it.
He shrugged, and then added, ‘I still feel irrevocably guilty that she died because of me.’
Aurelia reached forward and put her hands on his. ‘You shouldn’t feel guilty, Clarence,’ she said softly. ‘It was a misfortune of giving birth, and it’s not that uncommon.’
‘Bless you for saying so,’ he said. ‘I’ll try and remember that every time I beat myself.’
‘Every woman knows that bringing another life into this world might mean sacrificing her own,’ she went on. ‘It’s always there at the back of our minds from the moment we know we’re pregnant, but it’s something we pray won’t happen. It’s something we try not to think about.’
He looked into her eyes and smiled. ‘At least you didn’t die. We all have that to be thankful for.’
‘How’s your new house?’ she asked brightly, hoping to divert him.
‘My house is as lovely as I imagined it to be when I designed it…except for one thing – my wife is no longer there to share it with me.’
‘No, of course, Clarence. It must be so hard for you.’
‘She had only a couple of days and nights there, and those in trauma…Anyway, perhaps you’d like to see it sometime? I’d love to show it off to you.’
‘Oh, but I’d love to see it.’
He smiled. ‘Excellent. So you shall.’ Suddenly he seemed uplifted. ‘I love showing it off. I’ll come and pick you up one day. I’m sure they can spare me from the practice for one day. When would suit you best?’
‘Oh, Friday,’ she said without hesitation. ‘Morning would be best. About eleven?’
‘Very well, eleven it is.’
‘I’ll pour that tea,’ she said with a smile as radiant as sunshine. ‘I should say it’s steeped enough by now.’
* * *
Chapter 35
Come Friday, Aurelia readied the two children for the visit to Clarence’s home. She wrapped them in warm clothes, for although the weather was misty but dry it was even colder than usual for early December. She wore a two-piece day dress in cream with a broad coral-red hem, belt and trimmings, beneath a cream cape, set off with a fashionable cream boater. She had had the ensemble made after the birth of Benjie.
She was looking forward to seeing Clarence’s new house with intensifying curiosity and anticipation. It was also reasonable to wonder whether or not Clarence was taking a renewed interest in her as a woman, now that he was unexpectedly a widower and alone. Perhaps he was – it elicited a smile within her that he seemed anxious to protect her from any further involvement with Algie Stokes. However, it had been less than six months since Harriet’s untimely death, and even so much as a whiff of romance, however restrained, would be premature whilst he was supposed to be still in mourning.
He arrived promptly, and was exquisitely dressed in a black chesterfield with a short shoulder cape worn over it, black kid gloves and a black bowler hat. Aurelia thought how handsome he looked, and how money had refined his already well-groomed look.
They settled themselves in the cabriolet, Benjie sitting excitedly between Clarence and Aurelia, with Christina in her lap. Mindful of his cargo, Clarence drove carefully, the beautiful black horse at barely a trot. During the ride to Kingswinford they chatted about this and that, and Clarence said how awful it was that two men had met their deaths at the Brierley Hill Bottle Works when a furnace had spilled tons of molten glass over them. Aurelia agreed it was a tragedy, and said she’d since heard that a concert was to be arranged at the Town Hall, with all proceeds to go to their widows and families.
‘Have you made any decision yet about Joyce Till?’ she asked, changing tack.
‘The nanny? No,’ he replied. ‘I haven’t made my mind up yet. There are one or two other candidates I’m considering now.’ He turned to look at her. ‘Maybe I’ll get the chance to deal with it sometime next week.’
She returned his glance with a smile, and nodded to indicate her understanding of how busy he must be.
Just then, he turned off the road into a driveway, and through the trees she saw for the first time the beautiful mock-Tudor house.
‘Here it is,’ he declared with obvious pride. ‘The Larches.’
She gasped at sight of it. ‘Clarence,
it looks magnificent.’
‘Thank you,’ he grinned. ‘I’m glad you approve.’
‘Oh, I do. It’s beautiful. I can’t wait to see inside.’
‘Well, I hope you’re not disappointed. I’ve asked Sadie, my maid, to lay on some food for us at about one o’clock. Just something light.’
‘That’s very thoughtful, Clarence,’ she said sincerely. ‘Thank you.’
‘Well, I can’t allow my guests to go hungry.’
They drew to a halt outside the front door.
‘Is your baby son here?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘I took George to the Meese’s first thing. I think it’s hardly fair to ask Sadie to look after him when I have to go out, not that she’s overworked, but nor is she trained as a nanny. Anyway, the Meese’s love to have him. He fits in quite well with the organised chaos of their house and business.’
‘Pity, I’d loved to have seen him.’
‘One day, perhaps,’ he replied.
‘Yes, I hope so…one day.’
They alighted from the gig. Clarence lifted Benjie down first, then took Aurelia’s hand as she stepped down. Carrying Christina in her arms, she followed him expectantly while he held Benjie by the hand, leading him to the front door.
He opened it and stood aside for her to enter. She stepped over the threshold and stood in wonder as she looked about her at the magnificent hall with its broad flight of stairs directly ahead of her, as well as trying to take in everything else.
‘May we come in?’ Clarence beamed, for she was inadvertently standing in his and Benjie’s way.
She stood aside, and laughed. ‘So sorry, Clarence. I am just in absolute admiration. My, you’ve done a magnificent job. It’s beautiful.’
‘Sadie!’ he called, and again, ‘Sadie!…She’ll take our coats and hang them up. Can I ask her to get you something to drink, to warm you up?’
‘If you’re having something,’ she answered, stooping to unfasten Benjie’s warm winter coat and take it off him.
‘I fancy coffee,’ he said. ‘I generally do at about this time.’
‘Coffee would be lovely.’
‘What about the children?’
‘Milk will be fine. Thank you.’
Sadie appeared and deferentially took all their top coats, and a request to provide coffee and milk.
‘Meanwhile, let me show you around.’
He showed her around, Christina in her arms, Benjie’s hand in Clarence’s most of the time. The drawing room was furnished with easy chairs that looked exquisitely comfortable, and daylight flooded in from the large windows. An elaborate crystal glass chandelier, in which scores of candles stood as erect as a battalion of white-clad soldiers, hung majestically from the ceiling. At the windows hung dense floral curtains, a fire burned cheerily, radiating precious warmth, and the lush carpets almost tempted her to tread on them with bare feet to relish their cushioned softness. A glass partition separated the dining room from the drawing room, and on the other side of the drawing room was another room, with huge windows that faced onto the back of the house and its immense garden. Clarence said this was the sunroom. Comfortable easy chairs and small, low tables furnished it, prompting Aurelia to ponder how lovely it would be to sit in there reading, supplied with tea and scrumptious cakes. The kitchen, too, was equipped with all the latest culinary refinements and contrivances, as was the laundry.
Upstairs, when he showed her his bedroom, large and tastefully appointed, she asked him if this was where Harriet had given birth and died.
‘Yes,’ he answered unequivocally. ‘I made up my mind early that the fact of her death in this room should not preclude me from using it. After all, George was born in here. So I don’t regard it as a shrine to her that should remain revered and unused. It was intended as the master bedroom, and the master bedroom it will always be, as long as I own the house.’
Over coffee in the morning room, he informed her that he had built the house on the plot next door, similar to The Larches, equally well appointed, which he had since sold to a factory owner from Brierley Hill. She replied that he was getting to be quite the businessman, which invoked a wry smile.
The house and Clarence’s demeanour confirmed what Aurelia had known for a long time: that Benjamin had too easily swayed her with his sweet-talking. She should have been more steadfast and stuck with Clarence. Had she done so, she would be his wife now as they had planned, and there would have been no scandalous affair with Algie Stokes; she would never have had the affair so she could never have missed it. The large inheritance that made all this luxury living possible would still have come to Clarence, and her life would have been infinitely more comfortable and far less topsy-turvy. She would be living in this beautiful house now, or one like it, instead of the tiny, poverty-stricken terraced abode in which she now existed. If only she could turn back the clock to that fatal afternoon at that cricket match when Benjamin had begun his odious, sycophantic epic, turned her head, and initiated a life of misery, insecurity and scandal. What a complete fool she had been.
* * *
Aurelia was back at her tiny, poverty-stricken terraced abode by four o’clock, well before Algie arrived, as she had intended to be. Clarence dropped her and the children off at the bottom of the entry in Talbot Street, and left, anxious to collect George from the Meese family’s tender care. He hoped he would see her again soon, he said. Once inside, Aurelia changed from the beautiful two-piece dress in cream and coral into a more prosaic and well-worn day dress to receive Algie. She had no intention of letting him know where she had been.
They stood chatting, amiably enough, but Algie was of the opinion that she seemed a little inattentive, a little diverted. She smiled, happy as always to see him, but sometimes her attention seemed to wander, as if she were gripped by something else.
‘Did you go into the town today for groceries?’ he asked.
‘Not today, Algie. I plan to go tomorr—’
‘We been to Uncle Clawence’s new house today, Uncle Algie,’ Benjie proudly announced, interrupting her.
Algie looked at the child in disbelief, then at Aurelia who looked as if she were thoroughly embarrassed and wished to fall through to the cellar below. Consternation furrowed his brow. ‘You’ve been to Clarence’s house?’
Aurelia was blushing to her roots, mortified. ‘Yes,’ she answered sheepishly.
‘How did you get there? How did you know where it is?’
‘Clarence collected us in his gig.’
‘He’s been here?’
‘Yes, Algie…’ She sighed with resignation that her secret had been exposed. ‘He called earlier in the week. He invited us to see it – the children as well – so I wasn’t alone with him. He collected us this morning in his cabriolet and brought us back about four.’
‘You wouldn’t have told me, would you, if Benjie hadn’t dropped it out?’
‘Only because I knew you would be angry.’
‘So what’s he after?’
‘I don’t know what you mean, Algie.’
‘Oh, don’t pretend to be so naïve, Aurelia. You don’t invite a woman to see your damned extravagant new house just so she can say how lovely it is. What’s his motive?’
‘Motive?’
‘Yes, he must have a motive. What’s behind it?’
‘Nothing, as far as I know.’
‘Have you arranged to see him again?’
‘No, I haven’t.’
‘So what prompted him to come here in the first place?’
Aurelia sighed again. She would have to explain to satisfy his curiosity. ‘He wants to employ a nanny for little George, and one of the applicants he likes the sound of is Joyce Till. Joyce was nanny at Holly Hall House until after I left. Benjamin had given her no character, so he wanted to know my opinion of her. That’s all. It was all perfectly innocent.’
‘So while he was here, he just thought he would try to impress you with his new house, so he asked you
along.’
‘Algie, I was hardly likely to refuse, was I? I was dying to see his new house. Why wouldn’t I be, for goodness’ sake?’
‘Is that why you seem a bit detached from reality?’
‘I’m not detached from reality. Do I seem detached from reality?’ She sounded surprised that he thought so.
‘Yes, you do, to be honest. I think he’s got to you.’
‘Don’t be silly. Of course he hasn’t.’
‘Well, if he hasn’t, his house has.’
‘All right. I admit I was a bit taken with his house.’
He looked at her as he would a naughty child, convinced of neither her assertion nor declared lack of any motive. ‘Just keep him at arm’s length, the jumped-up twit.’
‘I don’t know what it is with you two,’ she remarked with exasperation. ‘You’re as bad as each other. You sneer him, and he scorns you.’
‘Well, I’ve got good reason to sneer him. He bought the land my factory was on and had me evicted. It cost me a mint of money, and he knew it would. He wilfully tried to put me out of business, just because he learned that you and me had an affair. His problem is that he was jealous of me.’
‘And you’re not jealous of him?’ she queried.
‘I’m damned annoyed. I’m hopping mad that he still thinks he should have some influence over you.’
‘Well, of course he hasn’t, Algie. But you must remember that I was engaged to him once.’
‘So you keep reminding me. Just because he’s got enough money to start a bloody bank he thinks he can do exactly as he likes.’
‘You are jealous,’ she proclaimed with a grin.
‘Aurelia, don’t ever plague me with Clarence Froggatt,’ he answered. ‘I can’t stand the damned fool, and you know it. He makes my blood boil, especially where you’re concerned. I just wish he’d keep himself to himself.’
‘I don’t suppose I’ll hear from him again,’ she said, convinced of the truth of it.
‘Good…Anyway, I’d better go.’ From his pocket he withdrew some coins and handed her a couple of sovereigns.
