His Diamond Bride (4 page)

‘Aren't you afraid that I'll sabotage your engine?' she teased.

He assumed a lofty tone. ‘On second thoughts, I think you should stay quietly in the kitchen, which is where a woman belongs. I don't know why we ever gave you the vote. All right, all right, don't eat me!'

He edged away, holding up his arms in a theatrical parody of self-defence.

‘I've a good mind to set Billy on you,' she laughed.

‘He wouldn't do it,' Mark observed. ‘We're the best of friends.'

As if to confirm it, Billy put his nose on Mark's knee, gazing up at him worshipfully. Mark scratched his ears, returning a look that was almost as loving.

Dee was fascinated by this new side of him. His normal persona—cool, collected and humorous—had relaxed into the kind of daft adoration that dogs seemed able to inspire. She watched them for a while, smiling, until he looked up and coloured self-consciously.

‘I always wanted a dog,' he said, ‘but my mother wouldn't allow it. I tend to get rather stupid about other people's.'

‘I don't think you're stupid because you like Billy,' she said. ‘I'd think you were stupid if you didn't. When I set my heart on a dog my parents weren't keen either, but I pestered and pestered until they gave me Billy for my seventh birthday.'

‘Pestering my mother would only have brought me a clip round the ear,' he said wryly. ‘She didn't like what she called “insolence”.'

‘She sounds terrible.'

‘No, she just had a very hard life. She was devastated after my father left.'

‘I thought you said he died.'

‘He did, eventually, but he deserted her first. Keep that to yourself, I don't tell everyone.'

She nodded, understanding the message that he hadn't told Sylvia.

‘Unfortunately for us both,' he went on, ‘I look very much like my father, and it didn't help.'

‘She blamed you for that?' Dee demanded, aghast.

‘It wasn't her fault,' Mark said quickly. ‘She couldn't cope with her feelings, she didn't know what to do with me.'

‘How old were you when your father left?'

‘Six, and ten when he died.'

‘No brothers or sisters?'

‘No, I wish I had. It would have helped if there had been more of us. Or one of you,' he added, looking down at Billy. ‘You'd have been a good friend.'

‘She should have let you have a dog,' Dee said. ‘You'd have been easier for her to cope with.'

‘I got one once,' he said with a wry smile of recollection. ‘It was a stray and quite small, so I took him home and hid him. I managed to keep him a secret for two days before my mother found out.'

‘What did she do?' Dee asked, although she was afraid to hear.

‘I came home from school one day and he'd vanished. I went through every room looking for him, but he wasn't there. She said he must have run away, but I found out afterwards that she'd thrown him out in the rain.'

‘Did she give you a clip round the ear?'

‘Mmm! But I was defiant. I went looking for him.'

‘Did you ever find him?'

‘Yes, I found his body in a pile of rubbish on the street. From the look of him, he'd starved to death.'

‘Did you tell your mother?'

Mark shook his head.

She hesitated a moment before asking, ‘Did she hit you often?'

‘Now and then. When things got on top of her, she'd lash out. I learned to keep out of her way and stay quiet.'

Suddenly he raised his head. ‘Hey, what is this? Why are we being so gloomy? It's way in the past, all over.'

She'd liked him before, but now she liked him even more for this brief glimpse into the unhappy childhood that must have made him as he was today. She guessed that it wasn't over, whatever he said.

‘Nobody realised Billy was going to grow so enormous,' she said. ‘He's really too big for that little house so I take him for walks whenever I can. Thank you for bringing him out.'

‘He's marvellous company.' Frowning, he added, ‘He must be about eleven, quite old.'

‘Yes, I know I won't have him much longer so I make the most of every day. I can't bear to think of life without him.'

‘I can imagine. He's exactly the dog I'd have liked.' Mark turned his attention back to Billy. ‘D'you hear that? You've got a fan club right here.'

‘I'm jealous,' Dee said, regarding Billy, who was receiving Mark's caresses with every sign of bliss. ‘Normally he's only like that with me.'

‘I guess he knows a willing slave when he sees one. Hey, the owner's trying to attract our attention. I think he wants to close.'

They took the journey home at a gentle stroll, enjoying the pleasant evening, which was mild for winter, with a bright sky. Once Mark stopped and gazed upwards, prompting her to say, ‘Are you thinking of how soon you can be up there?'

‘If there's a war. There might not be.'

‘Then you'd have to forget planes and enjoy motorbikes. It must be thrilling to go at that speed.'

‘I'll take you some time. Sylvia didn't like it, but I think you would.'

‘Mmm, yes,
please!
'

He laughed and put a casual arm about her shoulders. ‘You know, it's funny,' he mused. ‘I've only known you a short time—but that's really all you need, isn't it?'

‘Is it?' she asked breathlessly.

‘Yes. I already feel that you're my best friend. I think I knew from the start, when we understood each other at once. Normally, a man wouldn't want a woman to understand him too well, but in you I like it. It's almost as though you're my sister. You don't mind my saying that, do you?'

‘Not at all,' she said brightly. ‘I've always wanted a brother.'

‘Really? What a coincidence. I've often thought it would be nice to have a sister, preferably a younger one.'

‘Yes, so that she could help you out of trouble without complaining, and let you get away with murder,' Dee said tartly.

He laughed. ‘You see? You understand my requirements instinctively. What a fantastic sister to have!'

And she really
would
be his sister when he married Sylvia. With a sinking heart, she realised that he was preparing her for the announcement of the marriage.

Sylvia was waiting for them on the front step. ‘Where have you been?' she demanded. ‘You said you were taking Billy for a walk and you just vanished.'

He explained about rescuing Dee from the bus. ‘So naturally I had to take her for a cup of tea.'

‘That's right, I was dying for one,' Dee said. ‘But Sir Lancelot rescued me.'

‘Who?' Sylvia asked.

‘Never mind,' Mark said, hastily drawing her aside.

Dee took Billy into the kitchen and released him from his lead while she explained to Helen.

‘I hope that doesn't mean you don't want your tea,' her mother said practically. ‘It'll be on the table in a minute.'

‘I'm starving.'

On her way through the hall she was waylaid by Mark, hastily thrusting some money into her hand.

‘That's too much,' she said, examining it.

‘Give me the change later,' he muttered. ‘Just don't tell—
Sylvia!
'

‘What's going on?' Sylvia demanded, seeming to appear out of nowhere. ‘Why are you giving Dee money?'

Quick as a flash, Dee replied, ‘He's not giving it to me, he's lending it to me. I really try to manage on what I earn but I'm a bit short this week, so Mark's helping me out. Don't tell Mum, will you?'

‘Of course not, but why didn't you ask me? I've helped you out before.'

‘I know, and I didn't feel I could ask you again, and Mark's been
so
chivalrous.'

Somewhere in the atmosphere she was aware of Mark, torn in two directions; half of him grateful for her quick-witted rescue, the other half fighting to keep a straight face.

Sylvia remained oblivious to the undercurrents. ‘You mustn't borrow money from Mark,' she said. ‘It isn't proper. I'll lend you what you need. Now, give him that money back.'

‘Yes, Sylvia,' she said meekly, handing the cash over but unable to meet Mark's eyes.

Nor could he meet hers. And somehow that made the secret all the sweeter.

 

It seems so trivial, looking back, but your masculine pride was involved, which made it important. I still laugh when I remember how horrified you were, and how we had to sneak a meeting later so that you could give me the money again. How grateful you were to me for putting Sylvia off the scent, and how happy I was!

Christmas was wonderful, just because you were there.
You gave us all presents, even Billy. He was overjoyed with that noisy toy you bought him and drove us all crazy with it, bless him! You gave Sylvia a pretty necklace, and me a purse saying it was ‘to keep my money safe', putting your fingers over your lips. It meant the world to me that we shared a secret, even if you did spoil it a bit by saying, ‘What a sister I have!'

That wasn't what I wanted to hear, but she could always take you away from me. She was the one you kissed under the mistletoe, while I looked away, then looked back. Seeing you like that hurt terribly, but I couldn't turn away again.

And then it was New Year's Eve, and that was when I discovered things I hadn't suspected before, things I didn't understand…

A
S THE
hands of the clock crept towards twelve on New Year's Eve, doors were flung open and the inhabitants of Crimea Street poured out into the open, carolling their pleasure up into the night sky.

‘Goodbye, 'thirty-eight. Goodbye and good riddance!'

‘Hello, 'thirty-nine. This is the year I'll get rich.'

‘Listen to them,' Joe murmured. ‘So sure it's all going to get better, when in fact—'

‘Don't be so gloomy,' his wife advised him. ‘There probably isn't going to be a war.'

‘They said that just before the last one,' Joe said. ‘Some of them were still saying it the day before I was drafted into the army.' He gazed sadly at the rapidly growing crowd, singing and dancing. ‘They never think to wonder what the next New Year will be like,' he murmured.

‘But we know what the next one will be like,' Dee said wryly. ‘Mark and Sylvia will be married, and she'll probably be pregnant.'

‘The way they're carrying on, it'll happen the other way round,' Helen observed grimly. ‘Look at them. I didn't bring my girls up to act like that.'

Dee smothered a grin. Between her parents' wedding anniversary and Sylvia's birthday was a mere three months, but all the family pretended not to notice.

‘
You
wouldn't do a thing like that, would you, Mum?' she asked demurely.

‘That's enough from you, my girl. Any more of your cheek and I'll—'

‘What, Mum?'

‘And don't you think you can snigger and get away with it. Just you be careful.'

‘Leave it,' Joe said easily. ‘They're young, like we were once.'

He slipped his arm around his wife's shoulders. As she turned her head they exchanged smiles, and suddenly the staid middle-aged couple blurred and there was a faint echo of the young lovers whose passion had overcome them. Dee slipped quickly away.

She tried not to go in the direction of Mark and Sylvia, but she couldn't resist a quick look. As she'd feared, they were locked in each other's arms, oblivious to everyone around them, trusting the night and the excitement to conceal them.

How tightly he was holding her. How passionate his caresses, how tender his kiss. How Dee's heart yearned at the sight of her sister enjoying so much happiness in the arms of this wonderful young man.

She turned away, giving herself a firm lecture. She had no right to be jealous. He belonged to Sylvia. She would get over him and find someone who was right for herself.

But deep inside was the fear that this might never happen, that he was the one and only and she'd met him too late. He would be her brother-in-law, lost to her for ever, and she would become a mean, miserable old maid.

This prospect was so terrible that she forced a smile to her face and began to jump up and down, as if dancing.

‘Come on, Dee,' yelled a voice in her ear. Arms went about her, sweeping her round and round.

It was Tom, who lived three doors down. He was gormless but well-meaning and she'd known him all her life, so she
willingly danced with him and managed not to look at Mark and Sylvia for a while.

They danced and danced while someone played the accordion and fireworks flared. Then the cry went up,
‘It's nearly midnight!'

The cheers were deafening.
It's almost nineteen thirty-nine. Yippee!

Laughing, Dee made the rounds of her friends and neighbours, hugging them, wishing them joy. Now she was looking out for Mark and Sylvia again, because surely she could sneak a New Year hug with him. Just sisterly, she promised herself.

In the distance she saw Sylvia and hurried towards her, but then she checked herself, unable to believe what she'd seen.

Her sister was in a man's arms, but the man wasn't Mark.

Nonsense, it
must
be Mark! Who else could it be?

But it wasn't Mark. It was the new milkman.

Never mind, she tried to reassure herself. Just a neighbourly embrace; nothing more.

But it was far more. Sylvia's mouth was locked on the young man's as firmly as it had been locked on Mark's just a few minutes ago.

Firecrackers exploded all around her. The sky was brilliant, but inside her there was darkness. Sylvia had betrayed Mark, had turned from his arms to another man.
How could she?

Turning, she could see Mark, looking around him as though trying to find Sylvia. She hastened over to him, calling his name and forcing him to turn so that he couldn't see into the shadows, and the heartbreak that awaited him there.

‘Dee!' he called cheerfully. ‘Come here!'

Before she knew it, he seized her by the waist, raised her high above his head, holding her as easily as if she weighed nothing, then lowered her to deliver a smacking kiss. It was the act of a friend, not a lover. Yet her heart leapt at the feel of
his mouth against hers. If only it would last! If only it could be for real!

But it was over. She knew a sad feeling of irony as her feet touched the ground. This was where she belonged. Not up in the air.

‘Have you seen Sylvia?' he asked.

‘I…no, I…thought she'd be with you.'

‘She was, but someone grabbed her and danced her away.'

‘And you're not jealous?'

‘Because she dances with another fellow? I'm not that pathetic.'

His grin was full of cheeky self-confidence, saying that he had nothing to fear. It plainly never occurred to him that Sylvia might have crossed the line.

Only later did Dee realise that she could have seized the chance to reveal Sylvia's treachery to Mark and break them up, perhaps claim him for herself. At the time, all she could think was that he must be protected from hurt.

‘Come on, let's dance,' he said, opening his arms.

It was bliss to dance with him, feeling his arms about her, knowing that the other girls envied her. News of his attractions had gone around the neighbourhood like lightning and everyone wanted to see him. Having seen him, they wanted to stay and see some more, and then to dance with him.

One or two of them tried to break in, claiming to believe that this was an ‘excuse me' dance. Dee suppressed the inclination to do murder, swung away to another partner, but then reclaimed Mark as soon as possible.

‘You're putting me in danger,' he joked breathlessly as they bounded around together. ‘There are at least three men who thought you should turn to them, but you came to me. I'm flattered.'

‘Don't be. I'm just keeping Sylvia's property safe for her. I'm a very good sister.'

‘Her sister or mine?'

A mysterious instinct to confront the thing she dreaded made her say, ‘It's going to be the same thing soon, isn't it?'

His face darkened. ‘Who can tell? Where is she?'

‘Why don't you go and find her?'

His lips twisted wryly, and she understood the message. Mark Sellon did not search yearningly for a woman, or beg for her attention. He let them beg him.

‘You're the only one she cares about,' Dee urged. ‘She's probably just trying to make you jealous.'

‘Then she's failing,' he said lightly. ‘Let's go.'

He swung her higher in the air but, before he could do more, they both saw Sylvia on the edge of the crowd. She was with a different young man, struggling with him, although not seriously, and laughing all the while. She laughed even louder when he managed to plant a kiss on her mouth.

Suddenly Dee found herself alone. There was a yell from the young man as he was hauled away and dumped on the pavement, and a shriek of excitement from Sylvia as Mark hurried her unceremoniously down a side street and into the darkness. The fascinated onlookers could just make out raised voices, which stopped very suddenly.

‘No prizes for guessing what's happening now,' someone said to a general laugh.

But then they all fell silent as the church clock began to strike midnight, looking up into the sky as though they could read there the tale of the coming year.

He'll marry her,
Dee thought forlornly,
and I'll have to move away so that I don't see him so much. Perhaps I could move into the Nurses' Home.

‘Hey, Dee!' Helen and Joe were waving, beckoning for her to join them as the clock neared twelve.

‘Where's Sylvia?' Helen demanded. ‘Ah, yes, I can see her.'

There she was, drifting slowly back along the street, arms
around Mark, her head resting on his shoulder, gazing up at him with a look of adoration; a look he returned in full. As the clock reached the final ‘bong' he pulled her into a tight embrace, crushing her mouth with his own as the crowd erupted around them.

‘It's nineteen thirty-nine!'

‘Happy New Year!'

‘Happy New Year, everybody! Happy—happy—happy—'

Mark and Sylvia heard none of it. At one with each other, they had banished the world. Nothing and nobody else existed.

‘Including me,' Dee whispered softly. ‘Happy New Year.'

 

Two days later, Mark moved out to a local bed and breakfast, and after that Dee saw less of him. They would sometimes pass as she was leaving for work and he was just arriving at the garage, but she was usually home too late to catch him. Once a week Sylvia would bring him to supper. Other nights she would go out and return late. Watching jealously, Dee saw that sometimes she came home smiling, and sometimes she seemed grumpy, but she always denied that there had been any quarrel.

Dee constantly braced herself for news of the engagement, but it never came. As the weeks passed, her nerves became more strained until it would almost have been a relief to know that he'd finally proposed to Sylvia, even set the date. If only it would happen soon, before she fell totally in love with him and it was too late.

And all the time she knew she was fooling herself. The spark of love had ignited in her the night they'd met, but she'd been too inexperienced to know it. Over the next few days it had flared and grown stronger. Now it was already too late. It had always been too late. It had been too late from the first moment.

Day after day, she waited for the axe to fall but, mysteriously, it never did.

There wasn't always time to worry about her own life. As the early months of 1939 passed, the news from Europe grew more ominous and war more likely. Hitler continued to invade weaker countries, annexing them in defiance of the Munich Agreement that he'd signed with Neville Chamberlain the previous September, until even Chamberlain announced that negotiations with him were impossible.

‘Mark can't talk about anything else,' Sylvia said sulkily. ‘He's set his heart on the Air Force, and he just takes it for granted that I'll stick around.'

‘But of course,' Dee said, shocked. ‘You couldn't leave him when he was doing his duty to his country.'

‘To him it's fun, not duty. I can't even get his attention long enough to make him jealous.'

‘Is that what you've been trying to do?' Dee asked curiously.

‘Just a little. It worked at New Year but—oh, I don't know. I have to make him realise that I'm here and he's got to notice me.'

‘Don't do anything stupid,' Dee warned.

Sylvia's response was a wry look that she didn't understand until later.

Tom, the young man from three doors down who'd danced with Dee on New Year's Eve, began to invite her out. Without encouraging him too much, she agreed to the odd trip to the cinema because she was blowed if she was going to spend her time pining for Mark Sellon, thank you very much!

Tom wasn't brainy, but he had a cheeky humour that appealed to her. Laughing with him wasn't the same as laughing with Mark. There was none of the edgy excitement that made it so much more than humour. But Tom could tell a joke well, and they were chuckling together the night they arrived at her home to find Mark there, looking troubled.

‘Is something the matter?' Dee asked quickly.

‘No, I'm just waiting for Sylvia. She's a bit late tonight.'

‘I thought she was meeting you in town,' Dee said, frowning.

‘Did she say that?' Mark said easily. ‘I must have got it wrong. Sorry to trouble you.' He was out of the door before they could reply.

‘Your sister's got them all running around after her,' Tom said admiringly.

‘Funny,' Dee mused. ‘I'm sure she said she wasn't coming home early. Oh, well.'

Looking back, it was easy to see this as the first ominous sign. The second came later that night when Sylvia returned, beaming and cheerful, and seemed delighted to know Mark had been looking for her.

‘Was he very upset?'

‘He certainly wasn't happy. Do you
want
him to be upset?'

Sylvia shrugged. ‘It won't do him any harm to worry about me for a change. He winks at every girl who passes.'

‘But that's just his way.'

There was a brief pause before Sylvia said, ‘That's what I used to believe, but now I think it's more than just a bit of harmless fun. There's something in him—something I can't reach because he won't let me. He seems so outgoing and friendly but it's an illusion. He keeps the important part of himself hidden. He'll flirt and play the passionate lover, but that's not love. Not really. He doesn't like getting close in other ways.'

‘Perhaps he doesn't trust the idea of love,' Dee said thoughtfully.

‘Why should you say that?'

‘I mean after what happened in his childhood—his father leaving and his mother being so withdrawn, you know.'

‘No, I don't know. What are you talking about?'

So Mark hadn't told Sylvia what he'd told her, Dee realised. He'd hinted as much but she'd thought that resolution would change as he grew closer to her sister. But it seemed they hadn't grown closer at all.