The Reluctant Sinner

by June Tate

  ‘And I am prepared to overlook your impertinence, but it’s time you left my premises, Mr Croucher, as I do not intend to argue with you … and take these with you.’ She shoved the flowers back at him. ‘Good day to you!’

  He went out slamming the door behind him.

  It was then that Grace appeared.

  ‘Are you all right?’ she asked when she saw her thunderous expression.

  ‘No I bloody well am not! That damned butcher had the temerity to offer me marriage as no other man ever would, knowing my past, but he didn’t mind that and was prepared to take me on! Really!’

  ‘Who is this man?’ asked Grace.

  ‘He was a friend of Ken Woods. A nasty piece of work if ever there was one.’

  ‘Will he cause you any trouble?’ Grace looked worried.

  Daisy frowned. ‘To be honest I don’t know. He was furious at my refusal; I thought he was going to take the door off its hinges when he left.’

  ‘I heard the door slam, that’s why I came through. Oh Daisy, what are you going to do?’

  ‘I don’t see I can do anything, after all he hasn’t done anything wrong. I’ll just have to hope he’ll calm down and accept what I said.’

  But she was worried, knowing the man’s reputation.

  Twenty-Eight

  Bert Croucher strode angrily down East Street, pushing pedestrians aside, still clutching his bunch of flowers. How dare that bitch dismiss him like that! There he was, offering her respectability and she turned him down. Who the hell did she think she was? He tossed the flowers into the gutter. A shabby street urchin stopped and picked them up, before running away.

  Croucher called into the Horse and Groom and ordered a large whiskey. He sat and fumed as he drank it down before ordering another. That girl needs teaching a lesson. She would learn to her cost it didn’t pay to treat Bert Croucher that way, he thought, as he sat sulking in the corner.

  At the end of the day, Daisy had another male visitor, but this time she was happy to see Steven Noaks enter her shop and was thrilled after he’d looked around and was obviously impressed.

  ‘Hello, Daisy, this really is very smart I must say.’ He walked over to inspect the gowns, displayed. ‘These are beautiful, so much intricate work and so stylish. You are indeed a talented young woman.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, smiling happily. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?’

  Walking over to her he said, ‘I wondered if you would like to come out to dinner this evening?’

  Daisy was delighted at the invitation. ‘I’d love to,’ she replied.

  ‘I’ll come and pick you up about seven this evening then.’

  ‘Do you remember where I live?’

  ‘Yes indeed I do. I’ll see you later.’

  Grace emerged from the workroom as he was leaving. She gazed at the uniformed young man with curiosity. Seeing the happy expression on her friend’s face she said, ‘I can see that this time you have no concerns about this visitor.’

  Gleefully, Daisy said, ‘No. Steven and I are old friends; he’s taking me out to dinner this evening. I must rush home and get changed.’

  As she dressed for her date, Daisy wondered if this time he would ask to see her again or would he just walk away at the end of the evening as he had done before? She had no need to hide her past from him, after all he’d been the one to pay for taking her virginity and she remembered just how he’d made love to her. The gentle way he’d treated her. Was she wrong when she thought there had been a certain feeling of affection there too? She hoped not because she’d thought of him often and had longed to see him again. Now that he had returned, was she foolish to hope that he was here to stay?

  During dinner, Steven didn’t mention the Solent Club or the fact that she’d been taken to court accused of murder. She wondered if it was to spare her feelings or was it because he didn’t want to think about it? She tried to push such thoughts to the back of her head and enjoy his company.

  They discussed the past sinking of the Lusitania by a German submarine and the loss of so many lives, several of them women and children.

  ‘Aren’t you afraid when you cross the Atlantic?’ she asked.

  ‘At the moment, the Mauritania is being used as a troopship; we have to carry men who are fighting in the Gallipoli offensive. It’s vital we get them there and we pray that it will be a safe journey. We do have superior speed which is a help. We don’t have a choice I’m afraid.’

  He questioned her about her business. ‘I’m amazed to see you doing so well; how did it all come about?’ he asked.

  ‘After Dad died, I stayed on at the Solent Club’ – there she’d mentioned it – ‘until I had enough money to start work in one room. Then Grace Portman offered me a partnership after I wrote to her. Her money allowed us to move into proper premises and expand. I was able to employ more staff – and so we grew.’

  ‘How do you know Grace?’

  ‘She was a client of mine when I worked in London Road. I was amazed that a lady of her breeding wanted to finance me, I must say, but it seems to be working very well.’ She paused. ‘I did tell her about my background when she made her offer, as it seemed only fair.’

  ‘That obviously didn’t daunt her in any way,’ Steven said.

  ‘No, she’s an unusual woman. I’m very lucky.’

  Steven sipped his wine, looking at Daisy over the rim of his glass. ‘You too are an unusual woman.’

  ‘Me?’ she said with surprise.

  ‘Yes, you. You have been through so much and yet, you’ve managed to overcome all that … and now you have your own business. I think that’s very unusual.’

  ‘But I am still a woman with a past, Steven. It will be there to haunt me the rest of my days. Someone will always remember and bring it up. I have to live with that and so will those who are a part of my life.’

  ‘That sounds like a warning, Daisy.’

  She smiled softly as she gazed at him. ‘I think it’s something you should be aware of. I would hate for you to be affected by it and talked about, just because you have taken me out to dinner.’

  He chuckled as he looked at her. ‘That’s really very sweet of you, but you forget, I was part of your past.’

  ‘Do you think I’ve ever forgotten that for a moment?’ she said. ‘What you did for me that night was something very special. But it’s what happened after that has me marked as a scarlet woman.’

  ‘But, darling Daisy, you were a reluctant sinner! You did what you had to for your father … and then for yourself. It was a valiant thing to do.’

  ‘That’s not how many people look at it; to them I was a common whore!’

  He took her hands in his. ‘I don’t ever want to hear you describe yourself that way again. I never thought of you in those terms and I never will!’

  It meant so much to hear this from him, that Daisy was overcome and couldn’t speak. But she knew that sadly others wouldn’t agree with him. She could live with it – but it was a lot to ask from another.

  ‘That makes you a special person too,’ she said, trying to lighten the conversation. ‘Are you in port for long?’ she asked trying to change the subject.

  ‘Yes, as a matter of fact I am. The ship has to go into dry dock, so I’ll be around for a few weeks. Of course I’ll have to be on duty some of that time. Perhaps you would like to come on board one day. I could give you a tour of the ship.’

  ‘Oh, Steven that would be wonderful! I’ve often wondered what an ocean liner looked like and what it would be like to sail on one. Are you sure it would be all right for me to go on board?’

  ‘Absolutely! I can show you around and then we could have lunch in my cabin.’

  ‘Really? I can’t tell you how exciting that would be.’

  He was amused by her enthusiasm. ‘When it’s your workplace you forget that to others it can be so interesting. It will give me the greatest pleasure. How about this coming Sunday; then you won’t have to take any tim
e off from your business?’

  ‘Oh, yes please.’

  He looked fondly at her. ‘It doesn’t take a lot to please you does it?’

  Her eyes widened. ‘You have no idea just what a treat you’re offering. Steven Noaks, you have become blasé!’

  He laughed loudly. ‘Me? Never! You forget that I’ve been at sea for a long time.’

  When later he walked her home, he kissed her with great longing as he held her close. ‘It’s so good to see you again, darling Daisy. I’ll pick you up at eleven o’clock on Sunday morning.’ And he kissed her yet again.

  When Daisy walked into her living room, she was in a state of euphoria. She could still feel the imprint of Steven’s lips on hers, the feel of his strong arms as he held her. She didn’t know when she’d been so happy.

  Vera looked up from her sewing. ‘Well it’s obvious to a blind man that you’ve had a good evening.’

  ‘I’ve just spent a very enjoyable meal in good company. Steven is a purser and he’s taking me over his ship on Sunday for a tour and then lunch. Imagine, Mum, what it must be like to be a passenger on such a liner?’

  ‘That’s for people with money and not for the likes of us, I’m afraid,’ Vera remarked with her usual down-to-earth logic.

  But Daisy would not be daunted. ‘Who knows? Maybe one day if the business is successful, we could afford a trip.’

  ‘On the Isle of Wight ferry maybe,’ Vera retorted.

  ‘Oh Mother! You must have a dream. Something to strive for in life, or how would we ever survive?’

  ‘Ah well, love, I’ve been around a lot longer that you. I only want enough money to live on and pay the bills … and to be healthy,’ she added. ‘That’s enough for me.’

  Daisy leaned down and hugged her. ‘At least we can do that already, thank goodness.’

  And that was all down to her daughter, Vera thought as she continued to sew. She was pleased to see Daisy so happy, my God she deserved it after what she’d been through. Folding her work carefully, she prepared for bed. Putting out the lights, the two of them went upstairs.

  As Daisy lay in her bed she wondered what Steven was thinking. He couldn’t have kissed her as he had done without some kind of feelings for her. But were they enough? Anyway, she’d enjoy every moment without expecting anything, then she wouldn’t be disappointed. She turned over and settled down – and fell asleep with her fingers crossed.

  At the Manor House in Brockenhurst the same evening, Grace Portman received an unexpected visitor. Frank Baker, Hugh’s batman, called to see her. He was still in uniform, but looked gaunt and unwell. She ushered him into the living room and poured him a brandy.

  ‘I’m so pleased to see you,’ she told him. ‘I often wondered what happened to you.’

  He told her briefly about the action he’d seen. ‘I’ve been invalided out of the army and am waiting to sign off. My lungs are shot from the gas attacks we had.’ He started coughing, then apologized. ‘Sorry about that, it catches me unawares at times.’ He sipped his drink. ‘I was with your husband when he died, Mrs Portman.’

  Grace felt the blood drain from her face. She was just beginning to start the day without thoughts of her husband being uppermost in her mind and now she was faced with the fact of his demise.

  ‘Did he suffer?’ she asked quietly. ‘Only they wouldn’t allow us to open the coffin.’

  Baker hesitated. How could he tell her that her husband was blown up by an exploding bomb and severely injured? ‘No, Mrs Portman, he didn’t feel a thing. It was very sudden.’ At least that was the truth. ‘He was a fine officer, very brave and held in high regard by his men. I thought you’d like to know that.’

  ‘I always worried that he would take unnecessary chances,’ she admitted. ‘Hugh was a bit gung-ho, if you know what I mean?’

  The man smiled. ‘He was fearless it’s true, but he was too good an officer to be foolish.’ He drank his drink and rose to his feet. ‘I must be on my way but I just wanted to come and see you and tell you about the Captain.’

  ‘Where are you staying?’ Grace asked anxiously as she was concerned for his health.

  ‘In the village with my family.’

  ‘Then I’ll get my man to drive you home.’ As Baker went to refuse, she insisted. ‘It’s the least I can do.’ She rang the bell for the maid and instructed her to tell the chauffeur to bring the car.

  When she was alone, she thought about Hugh. She was pleased to know that he hadn’t taken any chances during his time abroad. That had been a great relief. She wondered just what he would have thought of her being in business and allowed a slow smile to creep across her features. He would have had a fit! She, however, had found it an ideal way to get on with her life and cope with being a widow.

  When eventually she went to bed, she felt a sense of closure after Frank Baker’s visit. At least she knew that Hugh hadn’t suffered and that meant a great deal.

  Twenty-Nine

  It was a bright sunny day when Steven called for Daisy on the Sunday to take her for a guided trip around the Mauritania. She looked up at the four funnels and was astonished at the size of the ship and although it was wearing camouflage paint in an effort to confuse the enemy, the ship still had a kind of majesty about it. She was thrilled as they walked up the gangway thinking how marvellous it would be to do this as a passenger.

  The interior had of course been utilized for the use of the many troops being carried, but it was still possible to see the beautifully hand-carved wood panelling in the first-class public rooms and Daisy was very taken by the dome skylight in the first-class dining salon.

  Eventually Steven took her on to the bridge. All she could think about as she looked out over the bow of the ship from what seemed a great height, was what on earth it would feel like to be standing there in mid-Atlantic when there was a rough sea? It must be terrifying!

  She relaxed soon afterwards in Steven’s cabin. As befitting his position as purser, his cabin was spacious with a sitting area with a table and chairs and a couple of armchairs, as well as his bunk in the far corner.

  ‘Gosh! This is bigger than some people’s homes!’ she declared.

  At that moment the steward appeared and smiled at her before he laid the table and then served them lunch. He opened a bottle of wine, poured it, then left them alone.

  Daisy grinned broadly as she looked at the food and sipped her wine. ‘This really isn’t a bad life you have, is it?’

  He agreed. ‘It can be a privilege, but then again a seaman spends a lot of time away from home, which makes life lonely if you are married. Your wife would have to understand this. It’s a lot to ask of a woman.’

  ‘I understand that,’ said Daisy, ‘after all Southampton is a seaport and many families I know have someone who goes to sea. But if you are in love, you’d accept your man’s way of life. Being a seafarer’s wife is a hell of a lot better than being married to our poor soldiers out there fighting. At least you wouldn’t be worried about your man being killed in action.’

  ‘Yes, that’s true. When I see the troops leaving the ship I do wonder just how many will return.’

  They finished their meal and sat in the armchairs drinking coffee until Steven said, ‘It’s time for me to get you home, Daisy. I’m on fire watch this evening.’

  As she stood up he took her into his arms and kissed her. As she twined her arms around his neck and returned his kiss, Steven murmured as he nuzzled her neck. ‘It’s just as well we have to leave because I want to make love to you again.’

  ‘I would like that too,’ she whispered as she felt her body long for his touch.

  He picked her up and lay her down on his bed. ‘Let’s make the time, darling Daisy,’ he urged.

  She didn’t deny him.

  On the Monday morning as Daisy was getting dressed she hummed happily to herself. Yesterday had been brilliant! The tour of the Mauritania had been an eye-opener for her. Living on board an ocean liner was like being in a different wo
rld. An exciting one at that and she could understand why, when members of the crew eventually retired, they found it difficult to settle to a life ashore.

  Steven had been so interesting to listen to and as good a lover as she remembered, and as thoughtful. This time when they made love she was more experienced, but she was grateful that he didn’t remark on that fact – but she knew she’d been able to give him a lot of pleasure too. It had been a memorable time and she didn’t regret it one bit. He had been thoughtful enough to provide a contraceptive so she had no concerns there. But she knew that even if he hadn’t, she would still have consented, she longed for him so much.

  As she unlocked the door to the shop in East Street, Daisy was still singing to herself. She stopped at the reception desk and looked at the appointment book to check on the clients who would be calling that day to either collect their gowns or come in for a fitting then, taking her coat off, she made her way to the workroom.

  Daisy opened the door and screamed! The sewing machines had been smashed, the gowns on the tailors’ dummies had been torn to shreds and the place had been turned upside down. Daisy staggered back against the wall as she surveyed the chaos.

  ‘Bloody hell!’Agnes stood in the doorway. The others followed within minutes and lastly, Grace, who looked at the room in disbelief.

  ‘No one touch anything!’ she said. ‘I’m calling the police.’And she walked out of the room.

  Looking around Agnes said, ‘Who on earth would do a thing like this?’

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ said Daisy, ‘but whoever it was meant to cause absolute havoc. They have put us out of business. There isn’t a sewing machine that isn’t damaged.’

  Grace returned. ‘I’ve called the police and they are on their way. I suggest we all wait in reception until they come. Agnes, be a dear and pop down the road and bring us back a large pot of tea; that’s good for shock and I think we all need it.’