by Pat Herbert
“Oh dear, I didn’t know.”
“Well, why should you? Anyway, I think Corbett Junior has learned a valuable lesson tonight, at any rate,” said Cobb, still smiling.
“What’s that? And why are you grinning like the Cheshire cat?”
“Not to drink too much, for a start. I left him spewing all over your geraniums.”
“Oh, well,” sighed Herbert. “I never did like those particular flowers very much.”
Both men laughed.
15
It was one of those balmy early summer afternoons that promise so much when Dr Herbert Lomax decided his family deserved a little treat. He would take his family to the British Empire Exhibition at Wembley. The weather was perfect and he could think of nothing better than to spend time with his wife and little daughter, not to mention his two stepsons, who were whooping around the parlour with joy at the prospect. Apparently the Exhibition was a great success and had attracted millions of visitors. It included an amusement park and boasted the world’s first omnibus station. The whole family was very excited.
Herbert, now in his early sixties, had never found Edith. Time had moved on, the courts of the land had long since declared her legally dead. It was his old friend, Sergeant Jack Cobb, now retired, who had introduced him to Miranda Harcourt, his recently widowed sister. It was an instant mutual attraction, even though she was some twenty-five years younger than Herbert and had two small sons. But, far from putting him off, he had welcomed the boys with open arms. They were the family he thought he’d never have again, and his joy was complete when his own little daughter, Florence, came along. He was sad sometimes, though, when he looked at her. She reminded him so much of the two he had lost.
But today was a happy day for Herbert’s second family. The bus put them down outside the Wembley venue and they joined the queues of people waiting patiently to enter the British Empire Exhibition. Once inside, they made their way through the milling crowds, the two boys setting off at a fast pace and soon disappearing into the throng of visitors going into the amusements arcade. Little Florence clung to her mother’s hand, a look of wonderment on her small, pretty face.
“Oh dear, Herbert. Those two will get lost in there. Will you go and find them, while I take Florence to the ice cream stall?” said Miranda.
“Of course, dear. But I’m sure the boys will be fine. They can look after themselves.”
Miranda gave her husband a stern look. “Herbert!”
He smiled. “Sorry, pet. I’m on my way.” Obediently, he left his wife and daughter and headed into the arcade. It wasn’t easy getting through the crowds, but he managed to steer a path towards one of the main attractions: a huge laughing clown that dispensed liquorice sweets with each penny inserted into the slot beneath it. There were plenty of other, more expensive, gifts to be had, even a wrist watch, but somehow the metal claw never seemed able to hang on to any of them long enough to dispense them to the eagerly waiting public.
“What a swindle,” thought Dr Lomax. He wondered if any of the prizes were ever won or if the metal claw was set so that it could only hold a few jelly beans at a time.
He scanned the throng of people for his stepsons but to no avail. Each time he saw a boy of about the right age, he turned out to be a stranger. After about fifteen minutes of fruitless searching, he came to a stall selling fluffy toys and decided that a pink teddy bear would be just the thing for Florence. As his hand went to pick it up, another hand, small, delicate, feminine and covered in a white lace glove, reached out for it at the same time. Both hands took an arm each of the teddy bear. Dr Lomax looked up to see an elegant, still beautiful woman in late middle age staring straight back at him.
The jolt he received on seeing Edith’s face sent him reeling back against the wall. Edith clung on to the teddy bear as she lost her balance and started to fall to the floor. Herbert put his arm around her waist to steady her. He could hear someone in the crowd suggesting he took ‘his good lady wife’ to the tea booth outside the arcade. “Give her a cup of strong, sweet tea,” came the advice. “She’ll soon be right as rain.”
He led Edith to the tea booth that the man had pointed out and sat her down while he went to get the beverages. When he returned some time later (he apologised for the long wait, but there was a queue), he found her fanning herself furiously, her eyes not quite meeting his.
“Here, drink this while it’s hot. I’ve put three sugars in.”
Edith put away her fan and raised her eyes to meet his. She smiled as she stirred her tea. “Thank you.”
“You’re – you’re looking very well,” he observed. “And hardly a day older.” It was a lie, of course. But she was still beautiful, even if that beauty had hardened with the passing years.
“It’s good to see you, Herbert,” she said. “I’ve often wondered how you’ve been getting on.”
“I was very unhappy for a while after – after what happened....”
Edith put her hand on his. “You know why I had to go. I didn’t want to, but I had no other choice. I couldn’t stay after I’d killed that man. I would have been hanged for sure.”
Herbert sipped his tea, while he continued to admire his wife. “You are still so beautiful, Edith. I’m so glad that you seem to have prospered so well.”
“Even after – even after – well, you must hate me – our daughters?”
“Yes – well. There was a nationwide search for you. I wanted to hear your side of the story. I still find it hard to believe you could have killed them in cold blood like that.”
Edith stared at him. “You really believed I could have killed them?”
“I – I didn’t want to believe it – but what was I to think?”
“Did Martha tell you that I’d killed them?”
“Well, yes, she did...”
“And you believed her, rather than defend me?”
“But what could I do? You’d disappeared. I wanted more than anything in the world to find you and get at the truth.”
She was looking right into his eyes now. “I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you for believing that of me,” she said.
“That’s a cruel thing to say. I never wanted to believe it – but you never really had much time for them, did you?”
“No, I confess I didn’t. They bored me.” She finished her tea and gathered up her belongings. “Now, I think we’d better forget that this meeting ever took place between us. Don’t you?” She rose to leave, the haughtiness in her manner that he remembered so well asserting itself.
“Please, Edith, please sit down. I need to know what happened to you after.... Please Edith, I need this....”
“Do you?” She was inspecting her parasol. “Isn’t it best to leave things as they are? Whatever I tell you now will be mistrusted, anyway.”
“Of course it won’t!” Herbert felt the ground slipping away from him. She had walked into his life a little over half-an-hour ago after a space of nearly thirty years, and she was now about to walk out of it again. Forever. “You just vanished and, for all I knew, you could have been lying at the bottom of some river. Don’t you understand what that did to me? Not knowing what had happened to you?”
Edith was looking at him with a softer expression now, and she sat down again. “Do you think I could have one of those nice sugar buns, Herbert?” she asked him.
He leapt up and went to the counter, eager to do her bidding. Whatever happened, he must keep her with him until he knew the truth. If Miranda and the children were wondering where he was, he couldn’t help it. He would explain everything to them later. Miranda knew all about Edith Lomax and the tragedy that had befallen Herbert. She would understand.
The cakes provided, Herbert watched her select one and proceed to cut it into tiny slices. She had always been a fastidious eater, he remembered.
“Well?” he queried, impatience getting the better of him.
“Well, Herbert?” she echoed.
“Please, Edith, tell me what ha
ppened to you. I know you have managed very well by your appearance. Your clothes are well made and you are well in yourself.”
“The practised eye of the doctor. Thank you, Herbert,” she smiled. “Is there more tea in the pot?”
He poured her another cup of tea, having difficulty keeping his temper. He began to remember how she had always irritated him in this way, delighting in making him feel uncomfortable even when, as was so often the case, she was in the wrong.
“And you, Herbert, you are looking prosperous too. I’m glad life has been kind to you, despite everything.”
“No thanks to you, Edith.”
She glared at him over her tea cup. “Very well, Herbert. You want to know the truth. Well, I will tell you. Whether you will be edified by my story is another matter.”
“After I’d hit that awful man, I realised I couldn’t stay to face the consequences. Martha would inform against me, of that I was certain, so there would be no point in denying it. So I just went and packed a small suitcase – just a few essentials. But, as I was leaving, the girls followed me and asked me where I was going. I hadn’t reckoned with trying to explain to them what I’d just done.
“It was the worst moment of my life, Herbert. Worse, even, than the murder of that vile man. For the first time, ever, I felt a twinge of maternal instinct. I was hugging them and they were crying. All of a sudden, I knew they loved me and that I loved them.
“But I had to leave them, so I told them to be good girls for their mama and to go to their room. I told them you would be home soon and that Martha would make them their tea. Of course, I knew that was unlikely, given the state she was in and the body on the hearth. I did feel bad about leaving her with all that, but what else could I do?
“So I left the house, but I was worried about the children now. So I decided to make sure they were all right. After all, I couldn’t trust them to Martha’s care, not now. As I came back through the front door, I saw the children were going into the parlour. Jemima was just tall enough to reach the door handle. Then I heard the screams. So I turned and left. I admit it was a cowardly thing to do, but I knew they had discovered what I’d done. I just couldn’t stay to face them. Anyway, it was better for them that I was out of their lives. I knew you wouldn’t let any harm come to them. Please, Herbert. Let me tell this in my own way. Don’t interrupt, it’s hard enough as it is.
“Anyway, I felt completely disoriented now. But I was determined to go. I remember looking in my purse at that point and saw that I still had most of the housekeeping money that you’d given me just the day before. That would tide me over for a few days at least, and I started walking along the street, walking as fast as I could without drawing attention to myself. I was prepared to run if I saw a policeman.
“I got to the cab rank by the station without incident and hired the first one that came along. But as I took a seat inside, I realised I had no idea where I was going. I couldn’t go to my parents. They would have asked all sorts of questions and, besides, that would be the first place the police would look. So, when the cab driver asked me where I was going, I said the first thing that came into my head. King’s Cross station.
“The journey seemed to take forever, and I kept fearing the police were following me. But when it seemed they weren’t on my tail, I had time to reflect on my circumstances. Then it occurred to me. I could get a train to Luton where an old friend of mine lived. Lavinia Reynolds, you may remember her? Anyway, she’d married a parson and moved with him to Luton some years ago. But we still kept in touch. We wrote to each other about once every two months. Her letters were usually very boring. I always wondered why I bothered to read them, let alone reply. But I was glad now. Glad that I’d kept in touch, because now, I realised, she was the only friend I had left in the world.
“When I got to King’s Cross, I found I had a long wait for the Luton train, so I decided to while away the time in the station buffet. I remember studying the menu card to avoid looking into the eyes of strangers. It was as if they knew what I’d done. Of course, they didn’t, but my guilty conscience was playing tricks on me, and I think I was a little feverish.
“Then this soldier appeared out of nowhere. He was balancing a teacup and plate of sandwiches in one hand, while holding on to his kitbag with the other. He asked if he could share my table, as all the other tables were taken. They actually weren’t, and I knew he was attracted to me. I wasn’t sure, at first, that I wanted his attention, but it seemed churlish to refuse.
“He introduced himself as Sergeant Ernest Hayward. He told me he’d just come on leave. Said he’d served in the Boer War. To be honest, Herbert, he could have served in her local greengrocers, for all I cared. But he seemed so proud of himself, and he was very good looking. Don’t look at me like that, Herbert. I didn’t have anything like that on my mind. Not then.
“When he asked my name, I had to think quickly. The only name I could think of was my own. Before I married you, I mean. So Starling I became or, rather, reverted to. I was Edith Starling again, from that moment. My wedding ring was hidden by my glove, so that posed no difficulty.
“He asked me where I was going and, when I told him, he said that was where he was going too. I thought he was lying at first, but I found out afterwards that his family really did live in Luton. He asked if he might impose himself as my travelling companion, and I agreed. By then, I’d realised it would have been unwise to travel alone. A young woman travelling on her own would surely have attracted attention and that was the last thing I wanted.
“At that point, I excused myself to go to the Ladies where I removed the ring – your ring, Herbert. I’m sorry, but I had no choice. I wanted to keep it, but knew that I daren’t, so I dropped it down the sink plug hole. I knew, from that moment, my new life was starting. Yes, Herbert, I married my good looking soldier and I have been very happy, by and large. He’s been good to me, better than I deserve.”
Herbert eyed the teddy bear Edith was still clutching. “I don’t think we’ve paid for that, by the way,” he said. “I’ll go and make amends. Is it for your daughter?”
Edith smiled wistfully. “No. I have a young niece by my second marriage.”
When Herbert returned after paying for the bear, she asked him who he wanted the toy for. “My daughter, Florence. Yes, I remarried. It was a long while after you walked out of my life,” he added, as if by way of apology.
“I’m glad,” she said.
“Is – is your husband here with you today?” asked Herbert, looking around.
“Somewhere. He’s practising his rifle shooting skills in the arcade. There’s a stall that’s offering prizes for shooting wooden ducks, I believe.”
“He must be wondering where you’ve got to,” he pointed out.
“Oh no. He knows I like to be on my own sometimes. He’ll come and find me soon, I’ve no doubt. But you must have the teddy bear. For Florence, you said? How old is she?”
“She’s just five and as pretty as a picture. So you never had any more children?” Herbert asked tentatively.
“No, I don’t have any children. Which I think is a blessing, don’t you?” The irony in her tone wasn’t lost on him. “It’s all right, Herbert,” she said, pre-empting his protest. “It’s fine. I understand how you feel. After all, as you said, what else were you to think? I just wish I knew who really did kill them.”
That hadn’t crossed his mind until now. But, she was right. If Edith hadn’t killed them, then someone else had. Martha had been mistaken, after all. She must have jumped to the conclusion that, as there was no one else in the house at the time, her mistress must have been the guilty party.
“Now, I’ve got a husband to find,” she was saying, “and I believe your wife will soon be missing you, too. Not to mention your daughter.”
“Er, yes. I’ve two stepsons too,” he told her.
“My, my. Quite a brood.”
He took her arm and led her out of the tea booth. “Thanks for the teddy
bear, by the way,” he said as they prepared to take their leave of each other. “Florence will be thrilled. But I’m sorry to deny your niece.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” smiled Edith, “she’s probably a little too old for it now, anyway.”
Herbert watched her departing back, reflecting that she could be a young girl, her figure was still as trim as ever. It was hard to realise just what had happened. The door to the past had been opened to him after almost thirty years, and he now knew what had become of her. Their meeting, the one he had wished for, for so long, was over all too soon and there were still so many questions left unanswered.
16
Why did he have to suck on his pipe in that annoying manner? she wondered.
It was the day after her reunion with Herbert, and she had been thinking about him ever since. There was some truth, she reflected, in the old adage ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ for, to her now, Herbert seemed a cut well above her second husband. Another adage popped into her mind now. ‘Familiarity breeds contempt’. Why could she never be satisfied with what she had? Ernest Hayward was a decent enough man but, as the years passed, he had proved himself just as boring as Herbert, if not a little more so. Still, she had to admit, she didn’t know where she would be today without his intervention. Her real past was unknown to Ernest; the past she had made up had satisfied his mild curiosity only too easily. Her beauty had dazzled him, numbing that part of his brain that should have asked a few more questions. She had sometimes wondered what would have become of her if she hadn’t been so beautiful. She would, most likely, have ended up in the river as Herbert had imagined.
She sat opposite Ernest this evening, in the same chair by the same fireside as every other evening. She had her knitting, as usual, to while away the time. Ernest’s favoured pastime was reading detective fiction. She couldn’t resist the thought that nothing in the novels he so avidly devoured could compare with the real life events she had lived through. But, of course, she could never tell him.
