Cast the First Stone: A stunning wartime story

by Angela Arney

  ‘Doctor McCallum, don’t be ridiculous. I’m far too busy.’

  ‘Lady Liana, are you intent on murdering this child?’

  Her head jerked up. He had shocked her. She drew in a sharp breath. ‘How dare you say such a thing to me?’

  ‘I can draw no other conclusion if you refuse to take my advice.’

  Liana was silent. All through the months of pregnancy she had refused to let herself think of the child as a human being. Refused, in fact, to think of it having anything to do with her. Now she was suddenly confronted with the idea that she could kill it. Without actually doing anything, she could kill it. Be rid of it. She had never wanted another child. It would be no loss.

  The baby kicked suddenly, as if to remind her of its presence, and she knew without hesitation that she could never do such a terrible thing. She remembered telling Raul that she could kill if she had to. But she had meant killing to protect someone she loved, or to save her own life. No matter how much she wished she was not pregnant, Liana could not take an unborn child’s life. There was nothing in her make-up that could cause her to consciously harm the baby. She felt a sudden, unexpected rush of pity. Poor little scrap of humanity. It had not asked to be conceived. There was no way her conscience would allow her to condemn an innocent child to death.

  She looked at Peter McCallum, and smiled. It was the first time he had seen her smile, and he knew then how she had won the hearts of all who knew her. There was a flash of warmth and beauty that touched him, and something else as well. He searched for the right words to describe it, then found them, a resigned melancholy. Yes, that was it, a resigned melancholy, as if she were well used to the burden of sorrow.

  ‘All right, Doctor McCallum,’ she said. ‘You win. Book me into Winchester Hospital.’

  *

  Apart from Margaret who came as often as she could and worried herself sick throughout the entire visit, Eleanora also spent all her spare time with her mother during the three weeks she was in hospital. Peter often came with her. They laughed a lot and even made Liana laugh, which surprised her. It was not so long ago she had thought she would never laugh again. But it was difficult not to laugh with them, the two young people were so very happy together. Liana watched them thoughtfully and wondered. Were they falling in love? Peter had matured nicely into a handsome, self-reliant young man of nineteen and was already at university reading English. His quiet studiousness complimented Eleanora’s noisy, impetuous nature.

  To Liana’s relief neither the castello nor Italy were ever mentioned by Eleanora. She has forgotten, she thought with relief. Slowly she relaxed, enjoying the unexpected closeness that showed signs of developing between herself and her daughter. Eleanora was so excited about the baby and could not wait for the arrival of her brother. She was convinced it was going to be a boy; nothing could persuade her otherwise. A quirk of fate again, thought Liana wryly. After all these years, it seemed that at last her relationship with her daughter was beginning to come right, and all because of a child who had been conceived in violence and rage.

  But Liana was wrong in one respect. Eleanora had not forgotten. Italy and the castello were still vivid in her memory, but only to Peter did she confess her longing to return. And he, mindful of the fact that Nicholas had warned Eleanora never to mention it again to her mother, urged caution.

  ‘There’s plenty of time to go back later,’ he said. ‘You know the castello is officially registered now in the family name. It has withstood the passage of centuries. Don’t you think it can wait a few more years, until the time is right?’

  ‘But how shall I know?’ demanded Eleanora, impatient as ever. ‘When will the time be right?’

  ‘Something will happen, and then you will know. Forget about it until then.’

  ‘I suppose you might be right.’ Eleanora was not entirely convinced, and it was against her nature to leave anything open-ended. She liked to have things neatly tied up, organized and planned.

  Peter knew that and grinned at her mutinous expression. She was like her mother in so many ways, but there was absolutely no point in mentioning it. Both Liana and Eleanora would have hotly denied there was a shred of similarity between them. He often puzzled over their perverseness. What was it that made mother and daughter so anxious to deny their deep affection or the similarity that existed? Mercilessly they retained their own separate identities. He had seen it repeatedly. They would reach out and then draw back as if self-conscious or maybe even a little afraid.

  He thought he understood Eleanora’s reasons. She had been rebuffed so often by Liana when younger, she had built up a bright and breezy wall of apparent self-reliance, persuading herself she did not need her mother. But Liana herself was different; she was afraid, he was sure of it, and he wondered why. But now he was happy for them both. He sat back and delighted in watching their new relationship blossom and gain in strength.

  He might not have felt so relaxed and contented if he had known that Eleanora had decided to take his advice concerning the castello for the time being, and the time being only. Unbeknown to the rest of the family, she was busily learning Italian. From her point of view, discussion on the renovation of the castello was merely postponed but far from forgotten. It had temporarily taken a back seat. Other matters took precedence at the moment.

  One very important matter was the rapidly burgeoning adult love between herself and Peter. Innocent childish kisses had given way to fumbling adolescent embraces, heightened by a growing awareness of their bodies. Eleanora often felt dizzy with a beautiful, nameless excitement which happened more and more often when they kissed. It made her long to go on, beyond mere kissing. She looked at Peter, and he smiled at her. She felt the now familiar prickle of excitement and lowered her lashes, afraid that her mother might see and interpret her emotions. He loved her. He had said so last night.

  She switched her thoughts to the coming baby. ‘If it’s a boy, what will you call him?’

  ‘I haven’t thought about it,’ said Liana truthfully.

  Gradually, in spite of everything, Eleanora’s enthusiasm was beginning to affect her, and she realized that now she was actually looking forward to the arrival of the baby. More importantly, the enforced idleness of the weeks in hospital had forced her to think, to come to terms with life as it was, not as she wished it could be. She had discovered that nothing was for ever, not even hate. A slow forgiveness and understanding for Nicholas edged its way into her heart.

  Nicholas entered the private hospital room just in time to hear Eleanora’s question and Liana’s answer. She looked up at the sound of the door opening. For a second their gazes met and then Liana quickly looked down. Nicholas stood quite still, hardly daring to believe what he had seen. After so many years of marriage she could not hide everything from him, no more than he could from her, and he saw enough to give him hope. The icy look of winter had gone and in its place was not exactly love, but there was a warmth. And surely something more: a plea perhaps? She was ready to meet him halfway.

  Sitting down on the side of the bed he took her hand in his and looked down at the delicate lattice-work of veins showing through the skin. Then he raised it to his lips. ‘What do you want to call him if it is a boy?’

  ‘You choose,’ said Liana, her eyes still downcast. ‘It’s your son.’

  ‘No, he is ours,’ said Nicholas.

  ‘Ours,’ said Liana slowly, as if trying out the word. ‘Our son.’ She looked up and Nicholas saw her eyes were shining with tears. ‘I’m sorry he’s been so long in coming.’

  ‘I’m sorry, too, that I . . .’

  ‘You still haven’t got around to a name!’ Eleanora’s voice reminded them that they were not alone.

  Liana laughed shakily. ‘How about James? I always think it sounds so English.’

  Suddenly Nicholas reached out for her, and without another thought Liana slid gratefully into his arms. The hate dissipated as if by magic. At last their mutual nightmare was over. It was my faul
t as much as yours. She wanted to say it but suddenly there seemed no need. The nightmare had been self-imposed, by both of them. Through a mist of tears Liana looked at Nicholas. I need him, she thought wonderingly. There was no denying it. Suddenly her eyes were opened and she could see that she needed Nicholas as much as she still needed the memories of Raul. Her need for both of them was different. There was no comparison, could never be a comparison, but it did not seem to matter. For the first time in her life Liana began to feel things were slipping into their proper place. She felt Nicholas’s strong arms holding her and knew that was the main difference. Nicholas is here, she thought with a sudden burst of unexpected happiness. He is warm, I can touch him, and he’s holding me safe. Burying her face in his shoulder, she sighed a deeply contented sigh. Oh, he smelled so good.

  ‘Come on,’ said Peter to Eleanora, tugging at her arm.

  ‘Why? Oh, yes. Yes, we’d better go.’

  Her parents did not hear them leave. Nicholas’s tears mingled with Liana’s. ‘Say you forgive me,’ he said, his hand cradling the back of her head, pressing her face close to his. ‘And promise me that no matter what happens we’ll never stop talking to each other again.’

  ‘I promise,’ said Liana. The promise would be broken, of course it would, promises always are, but at that moment she meant it.

  Nicholas took a deep breath. He felt as if he were breathing clean, fresh air for the first time in months. The great weight of guilt which had been crushing him these last eight months slid away. The relief was physical. He felt liberated. Liana, love of his life, life of his life, had forgiven him. Suddenly he knew the baby would be a boy, a beautiful, healthy, intelligent boy and the most loved son in the whole of England. There was not a shred of doubt in his mind. Their son was destined to draw the two of them together. They would be closer in mind and spirit than they had ever been all the years of their marriage. Nicholas had never believed in mysticism but it did seem to him now as if some mysterious voice were speaking to him, pointing the way to a future filled with happiness.

  He looked down at Liana and stroked her cheek gently. ‘Everything is going to be all right,’ he said.

  ‘I know,’ whispered Liana. ‘Yes, darling, I know.’

  ‘Well, fancy that,’ said Eleanora with a backward glance at the two in the room. ‘They’re quite lovey dovey!’

  Peter put his arm around her. ‘And why not?’ he asked. ‘Love is not exclusive to the young, and anyway your parents are not old.’

  ‘No, I suppose not. It’s just that they seem old to me.’

  ‘Ah, that is because you are still a baby,’ he teased, kissing the tip of her nose.

  ‘Not that much of a baby.’ Eleanora pulled him into the lift that led to the lower floors and the exit from the hospital. As soon as the doors closed she kissed him passionately and he kissed her back.

  ‘Too young, though, to break it to the family,’ said Peter seriously as they broke apart when the lift doors slid open. ‘They just wouldn’t understand. We must keep our love affair a secret for a few more years.’

  ‘Oh hell, yes,’ said Eleanora inelegantly, then giggled at Peter’s disapproving expression. ‘Yes, darling,’ she said more seriously. ‘I agree. We don’t want anyone spoiling it for us. And anyway a secret is much more fun. Just so long as you promise never to stop loving me.’

  ‘That’s an easy promise to keep,’ said Peter.

  ‘And only for two years, then I’ll be in London at the Guildhall School of Music, and we’ll be free to do as we please. The only thing is,’ she paused, looking at Peter reflectively while he unlocked the door to his battered old estate car, ‘you said “love affair” a moment ago, and it’s not exactly that, is it? An “affair” is when you make love, and we haven’t.’

  Peter stared at her. She stood there laughing at him, dark hair blowing in the breeze, eyes passionate, daring, challenging. ‘Pre-marital sex is a sin in the eyes of the Church,’ he said slowly.

  ‘Oh, damn the Church, your Church. Do you want to?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Peter.

  Eleanora climbed into the car, and waited until Peter sat in the driving seat. Then she slid her arms around his neck and they began to kiss. Opening her mouth a little she pushed her tongue against Peter’s lips. She had read books about it and knew it was supposed to be exciting, arousing. It was. At the touch of her tongue, something snapped inside Peter and he groaned. His mouth opened, too. Excitedly they explored each other’s mouths with their tongues locked in a drenching kiss. Then, trembling, they drew apart.

  ‘Let’s go to the tithe barn down by the old Itchen Navigation,’ Eleanora whispered.

  It was an invitation Peter could not refuse. Without a word he put the car in gear and drove off. Eleanora slipped her hand between his thighs and smiled up at him.

  The medieval barn, the only remaining building of a once thriving abbey destroyed in the fifteenth century, was off the beaten track. The old Itchen Navigation, once a busy canal leading down to Southampton, was now a slumbering backwater. The banks, unused for a hundred years, were overgrown with reeds, and the only sign of life was the domestic activity of moorhens and coots.

  ‘Are you sure no-one will come?’ Peter hesitated.

  ‘The barn has still got last year’s hay stored in it. No-one is going to come for that today, and it will make a lovely bed.’ Eleanora led the way into the ancient timber-framed building.

  Once inside they were both nervous. ‘You’re sure you want to?’ asked Peter.

  Eleanora looked at him, her dark eyes serious now. ‘I’m sure,’ she whispered. ‘I want to know what it’s like, and I want it to be with you. I don’t want it with anyone else. I love you.’

  Undressing each other between kisses, they were shy at first, but Eleanora led the way, giving him her nipples to kiss and guiding his fingers to her clitoris.

  ‘I think you’ve read more books than me,’ confessed Peter, surprised at her sureness. He was erect and hard and wondered how long he could wait and whether or not he should withdraw before ejaculating.

  ‘We read them at school all the time. That’s the only advantage of being a boarder.’ Peter rubbed harder with his fingers and Eleanora shuddered. Spreading her legs wide, she pulled his head down to hers. ‘Don’t wait,’ she whispered. ‘I want you inside me.’

  Peter slid inside. Afraid of hurting her, he went in slowly. The sensation was exquisite. He could not believe how wonderful it felt; and then he knew he should withdraw, it was going to happen. But he could not get out. Wave after wave of pleasure swept over him. It was all over too quickly. They lay still afterwards. Eleanora wrapped her legs around him so that he could not escape.

  ‘Did I hurt you?’

  ‘No. I thought you would. In all the books it says it hurts a bit the first time but it didn’t. It was nice. Especially when you came right inside me.’ She kissed him. ‘I could feel you. It was lovely to feel you moving about inside me.’ She let out a long, satisfied sigh. ‘It was nice, so nice.’

  ‘I should have come out. You might get pregnant.’

  ‘I won’t. This is my safe time of the month. That’s why I suggested it today.’

  Peter raised himself up on his elbows and looked down at her. Flushed, her hair tousled with pieces of hay stuck in it, she looked bewitching. She smiled slowly back at him and he grinned. ‘You set me up,’ he said.

  ‘Yes. Do you mind?’

  He kissed her slowly. ‘I’m very glad you did. Next time, I want to make it good for you, too.’

  ‘You mean for me to have an orgasm, like in the books?’

  ‘Like in the books,’ said Peter, sliding down her body until his face was level with the curling black triangle of her bush. He knew it was good from the way she shuddered and jerked, little gasps of pleasure coming from her lips. He felt himself rising again and she rose to meet him as he entered her. They climaxed together, both of them crying out loud in joy.

  Lying there afterward
s in the softness of the hay, stroking her breasts, Peter kissed her. ‘I love you,’ he said. ‘I shall always love you, no matter what happens.’

  ‘I love you, too. And do you know what?’ she raised herself on one elbow.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I think I’m very sexy. I must be.’

  Peter laughed. ‘I agree, of course. But whatever makes you say so?’

  Eleanora lay back down beside him with a contented sigh. ‘Because it was much, much better than in the books. Something as heavenly as that can’t possibly be wrong. And now I’ve had it, I don’t want to live without it. Do you?’

  ‘No,’ admitted Peter. ‘I don’t. But the safe time of the month is so short, and you mustn’t get pregnant.’

  ‘I won’t.’ Eleanora was airily confident. ‘I’ll get myself fixed up with something, then we can do it all the time.’ She stretched luxuriously at the thought, then turned towards him. ‘I suppose you’ll go to confession because it’s a sin.’

  Peter thought for a moment. ‘I don’t feel guilty because I love you. But yes, I will go. Do you mind?’

  ‘No, I knew you would. That wretched Church of yours. But don’t go to that scruffy little Irish priest in the village. Everyone knows he blabs when he’s had a drop or two of the hard stuff.’

  ‘I had in mind to go when I’m in London, and be quite anonymous.’

  ‘Good idea.’ Eleanora was greatly relieved. She did not fancy Father O’Malley knowing. She began to caress Peter again. ‘Shall we do it once more before we go home?’

  ‘I’m not sure that I’ll be able to. Eleanora! What are you doing?’

  ‘This is something I read in a book, too!’ The words were muffled as she bent over him.

  *

  James Hamilton-Howard, the new viscount, entered the world on 31 July 1961. He made July by the skin of his teeth, being born exactly two minutes to midnight. In spite of Dr McCallum, the hospital obstetrician Mr Maudsley and Donald Ramsay all worrying themselves over Liana’s raised blood pressure and her age, the birth was effortless and straightforward.