Inherit the Skies (45 page)

Sarah read and re-read the letter and still the words blurred before her eyes. Adam and Alicia were going to be married. Tears ached in Sarah's throat and she crumpled the letter into a ball and tossed it onto the fire which blazed in the hearth.

Stupid to be upset – or surprised. It was her own decision to leave which had left the field clear for Alicia. Stupid to have hoped, almost without realising it, that Adam might still care for her too deeply to allow Alicia to win him over. And more stupid still to feel disappointed that he was not wise enough to see the real Alicia behind the charming mask. When she so chose Alicia could be as amusing as she was tantalising – and she had so much to offer. Marrying her would be much to Adam's advantage. Why, already his name was linked with Gilbert's in the tide of the new company – Morse Bailey Aeroplane Company. It sounded so grand, so important – and without a doubt it would be highly successful.

I am being selfish, Sarah thought, selfish and greedy. I have so much it is quite unreasonable for me to begrudge Adam the chance of happiness.

‘Sarah – are you there?' Eric called to her from the hall and he came in carrying a bunch of deep yellow and bronze chrysanthemums. He smiled as he presented them to her, the pleasant smile that came so readily these days since she had become his wife. ‘ I got these from the flower seller outside the railway station. She didn't have red roses, I'm afraid, but the sentiment is there just the same.'

‘Oh Eric, you are too good to me!' Sarah put up her face to be kissed, and her smile did not betray anything of the heartache she was feeling. She had grown quite good at pretending, she thought with some pride, and she had kept her secret promise to Eric that she would do nothing to make him regret having married her.

It was her good fortune of course that she had always been fond of Eric and enjoyed his company so the charade was not as difficult as it might have been and he was so besotted with her and so happy to have her back that he made no undue demands. He was content to have her with him, helping him at the Alexandra Palace workshops by using her newly acquired skills to keep the books for him and Henry, accompanying him to ballooning meets and sometimes going with him on ascents or races though she no longer took part in aerobatic displays as she had once done, and sharing his bed. He did not notice the wistful look that came into her eyes when the new aeroplanes were discussed, he did not know that sometimes after they had made love she would lie awake, staring into the darkness, her cheeks wet with tears. When he turned to her she was always there and it was more than he had dared to hope for. He loved her, took care of her and gentled her, and in return he received the warmth of which he had always known she was capable. And now there was an additional reason to bring them close and make him glow with happiness and pride. Sarah was going to have a baby – their baby. It was not due until the summer but already he could see the thickening of her waist, the new fullness in her breasts, and he could hardly wait. Always tender towards her, always solicitous of her welfare, he swelled now with a love which made him doubly attentive; the flowers he had brought her were simply one more gesture, one more tangible way of expressing that love.

‘How are you feeling?' he asked now. ‘When I came in I thought you looked a little peaky.'

‘It's nothing really.' She smiled at the flowers, pulling the wrapping paper aside to expose the full beauty of the blooms. ‘I must put these in water.'

She went through to the kitchen, small and compact like the rest of their house, yet at the same time bright and neat, reminiscent of the cosy rooms at Molly Norkett's which had always seemed to Sarah the very epitome of what a home should be. As she filled a large china jug with water Eric followed her into the kitchen.

‘The news stands are full of the election,' he informed her. ‘It seems that the results were something and nothing. Asquith has been returned again but without a clear-cut majority it's doubtful he'll be able to govern for long without going to the country again.'

Sarah broke the stem of a chrysanthemum and propped it in the vase. Politics had never interested her greatly but she remembered Gilbert's somewhat surprising espousement of the Liberal cause and the memory heightened her feelings of poignancy.

‘I had a letter from home today,' she said, putting the last flower into the vase and standing back to admire the effect. ‘Alicia and Adam are to be married. In May. We are invited to the wedding.'

‘Oh really?' His tone was as light and casual as hers. ‘Will you feel like travelling by then do you think?'

‘I see no reason why I shouldn't. I am disgustingly fit, Eric, as well you know, and I should like to go. For one thing, Annie's baby will be born by then, for another …' She broke off, aware of how close she had come to putting into words the perverse longing to see Adam again even while she shrank from the thought of watching him exchange marriage vows with Alicia. ‘I think Gilbert will expect me to be there,‘ she said. ‘ Unless of course you think it will be embarrassing for me to be seen in public in my condition …'

‘Embarrassing? For whom? Certainly not for me! You know how proud of you I am, my dear.' He caught at her hand, pulling her into his arms, and she laid her head against his waistcoat, glad he could no longer see her face. All very well to pretend; when her heart was breaking it was such a dreadful effort to conceal it!

‘I love you, Sarah,' he whispered into her hair. ‘You have made me a very happy man. Never forget that.'

She nodded silently, unable to reply. Her throat was constricted by tears.

And then suddenly she was aware of the tiniest of flutters deep within her. At first, lost in her thoughts, she failed to recognise the significance of it, then as it came again she stood quite still, her hand flying to her waist. The baby had moved. Where a moment before there had been only bleak despair now a sense of wonder began to creep in. She held her breath waiting to see if the flutter would come again. When it did she gave a little gasp. Concerned, Eric held her away.

‘What is it, my love?'

‘The baby! It moved!' The wonder was spilling into her voice; for the moment Adam and Alicia were forgotten. ‘ See if you can feel it!'

She caught his hand, pressing it against her waist, and for a moment they waited.

‘I can't feel anything,' Eric said at last, disappointed.

‘No. It was very faint. But it was there!'

‘Our baby!'

‘Yes.' She held tight to the thought. Somehow it seemed a little like an omen that she should have felt the baby move for the first time today, just when she had learned of Adam's impending marriage.

An old saying of Molly's crept into her mind. Whenever God closes a door somewhere he opens a window.

That part of my life is finally over, she thought. Now I have to look to the new beginning, not just with my mind and my body but with my whole heart. For my baby's sake if nothing else.

She laid her head on Eric's chest again and experienced a moment's complete peace.

Adam and Alicia were married in the full flush of May-time when the trees that surrounded Chewton Leigh were full with fresh green leaf and the apple-blossom hung against the clear blue sky in clouds of lacy white. The wedding was the grandest the village had seen in decades and as a topic of conversation it vied with the news that the King had passed away, providing a spectacular and happy celebration in the village church to efface the solemn service which the Vicar had hastily arranged to mark the royal death. Few people in the village had ever so much as set eyes on the King, and though the carnal excesses which had caused so much disquiet when he had been Prince of Wales were more or less forgotten now and he had proved, in the end, a popular monarch, the long faces and black armbands which some of the older folk felt obliged to wear as a mark of respect were gladly enough discarded with the wedding of the daughter of the local ‘gentry' as an excuse.

Initially, when he heard the news of the King's death Gilbert wondered if he should cancel the supper dance and firework display which he had arranged to mark the occasion and to which all his tenants and employees had been invited, but after some deliberation he decided this would cause too much disappointment and in any case there was always the accession of the new king, George, to honour.

On the day of the wedding the village turned out in force to watch Alicia, resplendent in cream lace, arrive at the church on the arm of her father. Inside, with the candles radiating a golden glow and illuminating the flowers that were banked around the stone pillars and the base of the pulpit, Sarah sat in a daze of unreality. From her pew on the left-hand side of the aisle she had a perfect view of Adam as he stood at the altar rail waiting for his bride and when the organ announced her arrival and he turned around to watch her approach their eyes met briefly. Sarah felt the hot colour rush into her cheeks and she looked down quickly, fixing her eyes on her order of service so that she missed seeing Alicia glide by, her heavy lace veil and demure expression barely masking the glorious swell of triumph she was experiencing.

The wedding breakfast was to be held in the banqueting room at Chewton Leigh House; here were more banks of flowers, tables laid with crisp white napery, gleaming silver and crystal and a dais for a trio of musicians to play chamber music. Again, as she moved down the receiving line, Sarah was aware of the strange feeling of unreality, as if she were swimming in a warm and sticky pool. Alicia kissed her theatrically but Adam's greeting was that of an old friend. Sarah smiled stiffly and moved on into the vast hall.

‘Are you feeling all right?' Eric murmured solicitously. ‘ You look a little pale.'

Her lips tightened; her eyes were hard and bright.

‘I'm fine – and I shall be even better after a glass of champagne.'

‘Do you think you should?' Eric asked doubtfully but without much hope. The fact that she was his wife and was carrying his child had made no difference to the wilful trait of doing exactly as she pleased.

Sarah and Eric had been seated with Annie and Max.

‘I don't look too much like a fairground exhibit do I?' Sarah whispered to Annie as they took their places.

‘Good heavens no! That loose coat is very flattering. No-one would ever guess you are about to become a mother.'

Sarah smiled. ‘I think you are being a bit kind in saying that, Annie, but still … What's it like? Being a mother, I mean.'

‘Wonderful.' Annie's glow was confirmation of that; though she was now a little plumper than she had used to be there was little doubt but that motherhood suited her. ‘I can't wait for you to see John – you'll adore him.'

‘John. I've always liked that name.'

‘We called him after Moore-Brabazon. He had to be called after one of the pioneers, Max insisted on it. And who better than JTC?' Annie leaned closer. ‘There is something I wanted to ask you, Sarah. I wondered if you would do us the honour of being godmother to little John.'

‘Oh Annie – I'd love to! How nice of you to ask me! Though don't you think living in London I'm rather a long way away to be a proper godmother? I'll hardly ever see him.'

‘I wouldn't be too sure of that,' Annie said mysteriously but when Sarah pressed her she refused to be drawn further.

Several glasses of champagne helped Sarah through the wedding breakfast but its anaesthetising effect was rendered totally useless by the pain of having to watch Adam and Alicia leave together for their honeymoon in Switzerland and when the evening's dancing began Sarah felt she could not keep up the pretence of enjoying herself a moment longer.

‘I think I've done enough for one day,' she said, summoning all her remaining control in an effort to make her voice bright and cheerful. ‘ I shall go to bed.'

‘So soon?' Eric looked regretful, torn between solicitude for his wife and the desire to stay a while longer. He and Max were getting along famously and he was enjoying the opportunity to talk about aeroplanes. Balloon man he might be – the new technology of powered flight was beginning to win him over.

‘There's no need for you to leave on my account,' Sarah said. ‘There's not even any need for you to see me to our room. I used to live here, remember.'

‘Well, if you're sure …'

‘I certainly am. Just as long as you won't mind if I'm asleep when you come to bed.'

As she said her goodnights she was aware of Annie's eyes on her, watchful and a little sad. I believe she knows, Sarah thought, and she lifted her chin and smiled, the same smile she had been forcing all day until her cheeks ached.

Alone in her room, however, there was no longer need for pretence. Wearily Sarah went through the motions of preparing for bed, for her whole body felt as heavy as her heart. She put out the light and lay staring into the darkness but in it she seemed to see Adam's face, glowing, yet a little blurred around the edges as the lamp had been. Pain ached through her like a paralysing cramp so that every bit of her seemed to be drawn up into one tight ball somewhere at the heart of her and the pain had a name – Adam. She stretched out her arms towards the image of his face, there in the darkness, but there was another face beside it, an oval of pale ivory framed by jet black hair and smiling a smile of triumph. Sarah's fingers tautened and stretched then crumpled into fists. She drew her arms tight around herself and sobs, torn from the heart of her, shook her body. The tears that came were hot tears, burning her eyes and doing nothing to alleviate the agony.

Oh Adam, Adam … oh Adam …

In the quiet dark Sarah wept and when at last all her tears were spent and there was nothing left but emptiness and exhaustion she turned her blotched and crumpled face into the pillow and slept.