Cast the First Stone: A stunning wartime story

by Angela Arney

  ‘There, I told you there was nothing to worry about. Second babies are always as easy as shucking peas!’ said Donald Ramsay, looking at a radiant Liana holding a contented-looking son and heir.

  ‘First time I’ve heard you mention it,’ answered a slightly disgruntled Peter McCallum. He was exhausted and felt that his own blood pressure must have gone up by several degrees during the past few hours. ‘I’m going home to get some sleep.’

  ‘Yes, good lad. You do that. I’ll take over here.’

  There was nothing to take over; the hospital had an on-duty obstetrician, paediatrician and midwife, but Peter refrained from saying so! Donald Ramsay was a good sort, and at his age eccentricities had to be allowed for. Peter McCallum went home to bed, happy at last. Everything was fine; Liana had proved him wrong. ‘That woman is as strong as a horse,’ he told his wife as he tumbled into bed. Next moment he was asleep.

  At one o’clock in the morning Liana was sitting up in bed drinking champagne. The hospital room was filled to overflowing with flowers and family.

  ‘I really must insist, sir. Doctor McCallum and Mr Maudsley said . . .’ The midwife was flustered. It was all very well for the doctors to tell her to get rid of the relatives but what did one do when they just ignored the request? ‘I must insist, sir,’ she repeated to Nicholas, ‘that everyone except you leaves the room.’

  A gale of laughter swept around the room. No-one was paying the slightest attention to the agitated midwife. Even Dr Ramsay was there, she noticed, feeling cross. He of all people ought to have known better! But Donald Ramsay had already downed three glasses of champagne on an empty stomach and was more than a little merry. ‘As I toasted the last one,’ he said, ‘I may as well do the honours again. To baby James.’ He raised his glass. ‘May he have a long and happy life.’

  ‘To baby James.’

  In the silence that ensued while the champagne was drunk, the midwife jumped in with another ultimatum. ‘You must all leave now. Everyone except Lord Nicholas. Please!’ She was beginning to feel desperate. The noise from Liana’s room had woken some of the babies in the next-door nursery. Now wide awake, they all bawled lustily. ‘Listen to that,’ she said more cross than ever, ‘you’ve woken them, and they automatically think it’s time for a feed.’

  ‘Goodness, what a racket those babies are making.’ Eleanora pulled a disapproving face. ‘I shall want quiet babies like James.’ She looked at her new brother tenderly and put her finger against his hand. Automatically the little starfish hand opened, grasping her finger, holding it tight. ‘Look, he’s holding my hand,’ she said in delight.

  James lay in the crook of Liana’s arm; his white blond hair, still damp from the birth, stuck up in little spikes.

  ‘They all do that. It’s a reflex action,’ said her grandmother matter-of-factly. Eleanora looked disappointed. ‘And as for your own babies, well, you’ll have whatever kind of baby the good Lord gives you, young lady. But first you have to find someone willing to marry you!’

  Eleanora laughed. ‘Oh, that shouldn’t be too difficult.’ Behind her back she reached out, and Peter caught her hand and squeezed it in his.

  ‘Darling,’ he whispered, smiling. Mad, impetuous Eleanora. He found it difficult to imagine her with babies of any kind.

  The midwife planted herself firmly in the middle of the room and glowered. Nicholas finally got the message. ‘You must all go.’ He shushed them, protesting, out of the room. ‘Thank you for coming. I’ll see you later.’

  Margaret was the last to leave. Leaning forward she brushed some ruffled hair back from Liana’s forehead in a tender gesture. ‘I’m so glad, my dear.’ Emotion made her more awkward than usual, and she mumbled so that Liana had to strain to hear. ‘Everything is all right now, isn’t it? I have been very worried.’

  Impulsively Liana reached up and caught Margaret’s hand in hers and pressed it to her lips. ‘Yes, everything is all right now,’ she answered, smiling into the craggy face, puckered a little now with anxiety. ‘I’ll be home soon.’

  ‘It can’t be soon enough for me.’ Margaret paused, then added quickly, ‘You’re sure? You and Nicholas?’

  ‘I’m sure. We are all right. Don’t worry.’

  Margaret let out a long sigh of relief and, giving Liana’s hand a final squeeze, went across to the door. At the door she paused and sniffing loudly searched in her pockets. Unable to find a handkerchief, she wiped away a tear with the back of her hand, then gave them both a beaming smile before departing.

  ‘We were foolish to think we could hide our troubles from everyone,’ Liana said as Nicholas closed the door behind his mother. ‘Margaret knew something was wrong between us.’

  ‘Yes, but not the truth, thank God,’ said Nicholas. ‘I’d hate her to know that.’

  ‘She never will. It’s all water under the bridge now.’

  Alone at last, they sat in companionable silence. Far from being tired after the birth, Liana felt wonderful and could hardly believe such happiness had fallen into her lap. The dark shadows that had always been there flickering on the edge of her life had suddenly disappeared. Even Raul had faded into the background. He was still there, of course; she knew that he always would be, but his memory was no longer dominant. Baby James had achieved the seemingly impossible. He had ousted Raul. The new life cradled in her arms had magically transported her from the turbulent edge of the storm into the centre, the very core of life, where it is always calm.

  Nicholas sat silent. He, too, was occupied with his own thoughts. They had taken a perilous journey, he and Liana, and somehow, by a miracle he did not understand, they had survived. Each of them had battled on, struggling along separately, lonely and often in despair. But suddenly their routes had converged, and now they had arrived in the same place. They were blessed, truly blessed.

  This happiness must be because I have no guilt this time, thought Liana, looking down at the small, flaxen head. There were no secrets between herself and Nicholas where James was concerned. His conception had been stormy but now they had moved into calm waters, sharing a mutual, uncomplicated love for a tiny child.

  James opened his eyes and stared up at her. She knew he was too young to focus but his blue eyes fixed on her with an unwavering gaze. They seemed serene and full of love. Bending her head, Liana laid her cheek against the downy crown of his head. It was warm and soft, perfumed with his own dulcet baby smell. She felt herself melting with love. It was not a fierce and triumphant love the way it had been at Eleanora’s birth. This love was sweet with an aura of almost sublime motherliness. She felt so quiet and comfortable. Raising her head she looked down at him again. His round eyes were still fixed on her, brilliant and unblinking. ‘His eyes are going to be blue,’ she said softly.

  ‘Aren’t babies’ eyes always blue?’ Nicholas bent over to look at James. ‘They may change.’

  ‘Not when they are as blue as his. He is going to look just like you, except that your eyes are grey.’ She smiled up at Nicholas, a slow, tender smile. ‘Just as handsome as you,’ she repeated.

  Nicholas held her tight. He knew he should leave his wife and newborn son to get their rest but he did not want to break the spell of quietness and new-found faith. Liana instinctively knew what he was feeling and wanted to preserve the preciousness of the moment, too. It would be too easy, she thought with a sudden pang of apprehension, for all this to disappear with the ease of a shadow when the sun goes in. She shivered, and Nicholas held her closer. ‘Cold?’ he asked.

  ‘No, I . . .’ then she stopped, because it would be silly to tell him she was afraid of losing their newly acquired happiness. ‘Just hold me for a little while,’ she said.

  Liana relaxed in Nicholas’s arms. There was nothing to fear. The birth of James had put right the wrongs. Life stretched ahead as far as she could see, day after day, serene and untroubled.

  PART THREE

  1961—1966

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The whole family�
�s life changed tempo when Liana brought James home to Broadacres. There was no need for a nanny with so many willing hands anxious to cuddle, kiss, play with and spoil him. Liana still worked at her papers in the library office but only did what was absolutely necessary. The supervision of the estate was left to Nicholas, with Wally and Bruno as managers, and they were more than capable. Rolf was their willing assistant, and between them they hired and fired the casual labour they needed for harvesting and took on regulars when needed. Unlike some estates, Broadacres never had any difficulty in recruiting casual labour. Word soon got around the pool of manual workers who moved from farm to farm in the Home Counties. They were fair, the folk at Broadacres; they told a man how long he would be needed and they paid him right up till the last day, even if the job were already finished.

  As August rolled into September, so the combine harvesters rolled through the golden sea of wheat, spewing a plume of grain into the accompanying lorries at their sides and tossing the neatly baled straw into rows from the back on to the stubble. The sugar-beet was lifted after the grain and crushed in the Broadacres factory. Then it was the turn of the fat glossy potatoes to be harvested and sold. The sheds, next door to the dairy at the home farm, were full of frisky young calves, kicking up their heels and eager to suck at a finger, or anything remotely resembling a teat.

  Normally Eleanora would have lived in the saddle, eager to put her sleek, summer-fed horses over the highest jumps possible; not wanting to waste a moment indoors before she went back to school. But this year was different. She religiously exercised the horses, having been too well trained by Margaret as a horsewoman to neglect them, but the moment she had finished, she was back with James.

  Liana complained to Nicholas but her expression told him not to take her words too seriously. ‘I have difficulty in getting near my own son. If I don’t have to beat off Eleanora or Margaret, it is Mary Pragnell or Meg. Wally and Bruno are almost as bad. Whenever they ride or drive past, they drop into Broadacres kitchen for a cup of tea, or so they say. But I know it’s James they have really come to see.’

  Nicholas laughed. ‘You should be thankful my sister and her husband live on the other side of the valley and are busy with their sheep, otherwise you’d be adding their names to the list.’

  ‘I should have added Peter’s name, though,’ said Liana thoughtfully. She sensed a greater maturity in Eleanora and Peter. The thought struck her that they could be lovers, then she dismissed it as nonsensical. Eleanora was at school, still a child. Not even seventeen until next Christmas. But still she wondered, and tentatively broached the subject with Nicholas. ‘Peter and Eleanora seem very fond of one another.’

  ‘They always have been.’ Nicholas was not paying attention, being much more interested in letting James exercise his leg muscles by bouncing on his lap.

  ‘I mean, fond enough to fall in love.’

  She had his attention now. Nicholas looked up quickly, drawing in a sharp breath and frowning. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. They are cousins.’

  ‘Cousins can fall in love.’

  ‘They are children, both of them. A few more weeks and they will be back at their studies. They won’t be seeing each other then until Christmas.’

  ‘You sound as if you don’t like the idea. Would it be so dreadful if they did fall in love? I should have thought you would be pleased. It would ensure your family would always be around you.’

  ‘I’m not against the idea,’ said Nicholas abruptly and rather too loudly. ‘But you are wrong. Quite wrong. They are like brother and sister,’ he added.

  It was as if he were trying to convince himself, and it puzzled Liana. Nicholas was against such a liaison, she was sure of it, even though he had just denied it. But why, for heaven’s sake? For the life of her she could not understand the reason for his opposition. She would have asked him, but James distracted her by holding out his plump arms and making demanding grunts. Liana gathered him into her arms, nuzzling his neck, revelling in his delicious baby smell. And Eleanora and Peter were forgotten.

  *

  Eleanora caught the tube from Waterloo to Westminster. It was a gorgeous November day. The plane trees along the Embankment were still festooned with brilliant yellow leaves; reluctant to lose them, they let them drop slowly one by one. Like miniature kites they eddied down, following the gentle air currents, eventually adding to the already thick yellow carpet spread across the ground.

  Eleanora walked briskly, swinging her overnight bag, scuffing up the dry leaves exuberantly, leaving a clear trail behind her. Life was perfect. A level studies were easy for her quick mind; her music was progressing well; and her singing improving daily. A place at the Guildhall School of Music for the following year was almost in the bag. But best of all, she thought, giving her bag an extra swing and charging through a pile of leaves carefully swept into a neat heap by a park keeper, was the fact that sixth formers at St Swithuns were allowed out at weekends. Eleanora went ‘home’ most weekends – to Broadacres the staff at St Swithuns thought in their innocence but ‘home’ was a flat rented by Peter in Dolphin Square on the Thames Embankment.

  Peter waited outside the Tate Gallery. They would walk the last part of the way to Dolphin Square together. Sometimes he worried about the deception, knowing neither set of parents would approve, but he cared less now. He went less and less often to confession. He was beginning to agree with Eleanora that it was a waste of time. He could not truthfully be penitent and say he would not sin again, because he knew he would. The moment he saw Eleanora any resolution made in good faith not to make love to her would be broken. His life existed of great barren patches, only coming alive when he was with Eleanora. There was no way he could deny what she meant to him. He needed her physically and mentally. When they were together they were both whole and life was perfection itself. Such perfection could not possibly be wrong.

  He turned to watch for her and saw her coming, long dark hair streaming behind her as she started to run towards him. Then she was in his arms, breathless and laughing.

  ‘Why can’t the year be made up of weekends?’ she asked between kisses.

  ‘We’d get bored if it were,’ he teased. ‘You’d get tired of me.’

  ‘Never, never!’ Eleanora was emphatic. ‘When we are married, which will be as soon as I’m twenty-one, because then we won’t have the bother of needing to ask anyone’s permission, it will be weekends all the time. And I dare you to get bored!’

  Peter laughed. They linked arms and started off towards Dolphin Square and their cosy, tucked-away flat. ‘By the time you are twenty-one,’ he said, ‘I aim to have had at least one play as a West End success, and a book published.’

  ‘And I shall have finished studying and be singing minor roles in Covent Garden.’

  ‘What a successful pair we shall be.’

  ‘Successful and happy,’ said Eleanora. ‘The happy bit is the most important.’

  ‘It doesn’t worry me, having to ask permission,’ said Peter thinking ahead to their marriage. ‘In fact I’d rather. Waiting until you are twenty-one is such a long time. Why don’t we do it on New Year’s Eve? Not this New Year but the next one. By then you will be eighteen, quite a respectable age to get engaged.’

  Impulsive as always, she flung her arms around him and hugged him hard. Loving him so much, she wanted to deny him nothing. ‘If you must,’ she said, ‘if you must.’

  It was agreed. In the meantime, Eleanora was happy in the knowledge that they had a whole year and a bit to keep their secret. They would be safe. No-one could touch them for more than a year. It was the strangest thing, and something Eleanora never, never mentioned to Peter, but sometimes she was sure that if anyone else knew of their love it would be destroyed. It was irrational, and she, being practical to the core and not given to fantasizing, did not allow herself to dwell on it. But the thought was there none the less, a niggling little worry that marred an otherwise perfect life.

  *

  At fiv
e months, James was too young to understand and enjoy Christmas in 1961 but he gurgled and chuckled at the lights on the Christmas tree and put every new toy showered on him by family and friends into his mouth, giving them all an experimental chew.

  ‘I can’t wait for next Christmas,’ said Eleanora. ‘We’ll take him to Winchester Cathedral on Christmas Eve for the Blessing of the Crib.’

  ‘He won’t understand it. He’ll still only be a year and a half.’ Margaret laughed indulgently at Eleanora’s plans.

  ‘He’ll love the music and the candles. Oh, Mummy, say yes. Please, please.’ Eleanora, aware that her mother avoided church-going whenever possible, was determined to get her permission well in advance.

  Liana smiled. Sometimes she thought she understood her daughter. Sometimes. Certainly now she recognized the determined streak in her. She wanted to exact a promise a year in advance, and would then hold her to it. ‘I don’t see why not. As you say, he probably would enjoy the music and candles.’

  The year flew past, full of the usual activities. Broadacres opened to the public at Easter and closed in October. Part of the house was open now as well as the gardens and brought in a sizeable revenue. Liana skilfully sectioned off the part of the house they hardly used, plus one or two rooms they did use in winter so that the public got the feeling of intimacy with the family. Nicholas wrote the history of the family and also the stories behind the paintings and furniture the public could view. Liana hand-picked the guides and grilled them in their duties. Like everything she organized, it was well run, efficient and financially successful.

  Apart from continuing to buy properties whenever she heard of one going at what she considered a knock-down price, Liana reined back on other business interests, content for the first time to leave the management to Nicholas and others. James was her priority. She enjoyed him as she had never enjoyed Eleanora’s babyhood, playing with him, marvelling at every new experience, happy watching Eleanora with her brother. Here was a new and different Eleanora with James, showing an infinite patience Liana had never even guessed she possessed.