Orphans of War (45 page)

‘When shall we tell them?’ he whispered to Maddy as they were going into the dining room.

‘Tell them what?’ she said, distracted by finding everyone a seat.

‘You know, about us,’ he whispered.

‘Not now, Greg.’ Maddy coughed to hide her words. ‘We need to talk about it first.’

‘What is there to talk about? Why are you avoiding me?’

‘I’m not,’ she snapped. ‘Shush, Plum’s going to give you a toast.’

‘I can reply then,’ he smiled. He wanted to tell the world about their news.

‘You’ll do no such thing, not before we’ve had a talk in private.’

‘Chance’d be a fine thing. We’ve not had two minutes alone since I arrived.’

‘I’ll speak to you later,’ she whispered.

‘Is that a promise?’ he laughed.

Maddy ignored him and reached for her glass.
‘Happy Birthday, Greg!’ she smiled with her lips but not with her eyes. Something was wrong.

Gloria kept trying to fill the gaps in the conversation at the dinner table they were sharing with two couples and pair of hiking lady guests. It was very stilted, the usual guff about the weather and the best footpaths and how nice the local lamb tasted. Greg couldn’t wait to leave the table and get Maddy on his own but when they all cleared away the plates into the kitchen, suddenly Maddy had disappeared again. Her vanishing act was beginning to annoy him.

When he could stand it no longer, Greg burst into the stable where Maddy was giving Monty his rub down. It was time to say his piece.

‘What have I done wrong? You’ve hardly said a word in my direction since I arrived.’

‘Nothing, Greg. I’m tired. I just need to be alone for a bit.’

‘Well, you’ve made that quite plain. What’s biting you? You can tell your uncle Greg,’ he smiled, trying to coax her out of this strange mood.

‘No, I can’t. I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.’

‘Then let me tell you all my good news. I’ve got a big contract in Harrogate. We can set the date now. I can support the two of us…Isn’t that wonderful?’ He waited for her to hug him but she turned her back on him.

‘I’m very pleased for you,’ she said, and carried on rubbing Monty down.

‘Don’t I get a kiss?’

‘No, but I said I was pleased for you.’

‘Have you got a date in mind, yet? Midsummer would be romantic,’ he continued.

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

There was a silence as he took in her words.

‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?’ he tried again.

‘It’s too soon, Greg. We don’t really know each other. There are things we need—’

‘What things?’ he interrupted. ‘I told you all about Germany and stuff. You know my views on things. The past is the past. We’ve got such a future. If it’s your job, you can carry on as long as you like. Let’s make it Christmas, then,’ he offered.

‘It’s just…’ she turned away so he couldn’t see her face, ‘…I can’t marry you…I never could. We’re not suited.’

Greg felt a stab in his gut at her words. ‘I don’t believe you. We’ve had such fun these last few months.’

‘Yes, we have, and fun is all it’s been for me. I’m not ready to settle down. I’ve got a chance to work down in London and, who knows, maybe Paris. I’m not ready for a house and children yet. I want to make a success of my career before I’m too old. You do understand, I can’t be held back.’

Greg stood rigid with shock. How could she say all this stuff and not look him in the eye? ‘Yes of course, I understand now. You’d not want to be held back by a working man who came from an orphanage and whose accent is rough. I wouldn’t fit in with your London pals.’ The shock and disappointment spilled out of his mouth, bitter to the taste.

‘You’ve got it wrong, Greg, completely wrong. It’s
not that at all…Oh, I wish I could explain but it won’t work out. I know it now. I tried but, believe me, I’m letting you off the hook. You’ll thank me later…I’m not as straightforward as you’d like to think.’

‘Then tell me,’ he pleaded. ‘What’s so hard that I’d not understand–or am I being gently dumped for one of Bella’s cronies?’

‘Of course not. There’s only ever been you,’ she pleaded, and there were tears in her eyes. ‘But I can’t marry you, I’m sorry…Just leave it at that, please.’

‘No, I won’t. I thought you felt as I did. Is it that business of the hotel? I thought we’d got over my mistake? Look, I can wait. I promise I won’t rush you into anything.’

‘Stop it, please,’ she snapped. ‘Leave me alone. We’re just not suited. Leave it there. Don’t go on. I’ll not change my mind. Please, go.’

Maddy’s dark grey eyes blinked back tears. She looked down as if she was ashamed. He knew she was lying but there was no give in her stance.

His head was spinning with this unexpected rejection. All he wanted to do now was to jump into the MG and head for the nearest pub to drown his sorrows until he couldn’t feel a thing. What a bloody Happy Birthday!

‘Well, a gentleman knows when he’s not wanted, I’ll take my leave,’ he said with a mocking bow. ‘Give my apologies to Mrs Plum but I’m not stopping where I’m not wanted. You know where to find me if you need me, if you change your mind.’

He left her to her grooming and didn’t hear her
agonised wails as he revved up his car. How could he stay now? He roared down the avenue, fumes smoking behind his retreat. The package was still unopened in the glove compartment. He didn’t care if he never saw it again.

Maddy collapsed on the floor, hiding in the stall among the bedding straw until she heard his engine fade away and out of her life. How cold and cruel she’d become. How had she spoken such horrid things to him? But what had to be done was done.

It had to be done for everyone’s sake, but the pain in her stomach made her double up. She felt her head bursting with horror. She’d sent him packing, done the deed, salvaged the family honour, for what it was worth–and for what?

Maddy sat back, exhausted. Her energy was drained by pain and frustration, but retreat was always a good tactic. The look of disbelief on his face, the hurt in his eyes–this rejection would be with her for ever. He’d looked like a little lost boy for a moment. What had she done to him? How much she must have hurt his pride, but she daren’t risk the alternative.

‘Oh, Monty, we had to do the right thing,’ she whispered to her horse. Being cruel to be kind was no comfort at all.

Tears were falling, great gulps of anguish pouring out, shaking her body until she was too exhausted to move. She fell asleep in the stall and awoke hours later, red-eyed, puffy and itching all over.

It was almost time to face Plum and Gloria but
not yet. Time enough to explain Greg’s sudden departure when she’d pulled herself together. Gloria would back her up. Thank God she still had a friend to lean on.

‘I wish you’d tell me what’s going on,’ said Plum as they waved away the last of their guests from the drive. ‘Why did Gregory rush off like that without a word? What was so important for him to return to during his holiday? Have you two quarrelled?’

Maddy carried on waving. ‘Nothing like that. He’s got a problem to see to. Papers to sign or something. We’re fine…I must dash back to Leeds too.’

Something was going on. Plum could almost smell it in the air. Maddy was smiling, her cheeks pinned in a rictus of a grin, convincing no one by this act, and flitting from one room to another, never still for a second. Gloria tiptoed around trying to be extra helpful in the kitchen. When she walked in a room, Maddy and Gloria were deep in conversation, jumping apart when she came close, treating her as if she was invisible. By the end of the weekend she was glad to see the back of all of them.

Greg wrote to thank her for the weekend and for his present. He said his move to Harrogate would mean no time for weekends away until he had licked his team into shape.

Then Maddy telephoned to say she was off to London on an assignment that might lead to something permanent and not to worry if she couldn’t make too many home visits this summer.

‘Darling, that’s fine, but what about Greg? Are you still seeing him?’ Plum asked.

‘Oh, no, it’s over between us. We’ve agreed it’s run its course, Plum. We’re not really compatible and there’s no point in flogging a dead horse, is there?’ There was a wobble in her voice and it wasn’t a crackle on the line. Maddy was getting in a dig about her uncle and aunt here, but this news was still a shock.

‘Do you know anything about this?’ she asked Gloria, who had the annoying habit of hovering in the doorway, listening in to conversations.

‘I told you there was no future there. Maddy’s got better fish to fry and now she’s off to London. Actually, I’m thinking of a change myself, if you don’t mind. Me and Ken aren’t hitting it off either. I expect you’re wondering why I never brought him here. He’s a bit old for me and doesn’t like the countryside much. He was pushing for us to tie the knot but I’m not ready so I’d like to make a clean break and move away too.

I hope you don’t mind but with all the valuable experience you’ve given me, I’ve applied for a domestic post in a boys’ school near Leeds–assistant domestic bursar, would you believe. I was hoping you’d give me a reference.’ Gloria smiled sweetly, her cheeks flushed with freckles.

‘But the season’s only just starting. I shall need you for a little while yet,’ Plum replied, shocked at this sudden desertion.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll not let you down. If I get the post, I don’t think they’ll want me until after the big holidays,’ she replied.

Gloria’s new posting was closer to Harrogate than Leeds, judging by the address, but Plum wrote a glowing reference and suddenly all the young ones were flying the coup. Soon Brooklyn would be silent and empty again on weekdays with no guests. Plum tried not to feel let down when Gloria broke her promise and promptly left at half term and one of Grace Battersby’s girls came to help out, but she wasn’t a patch on Gloria.

What did she expect? Sowerthwaite was never going to hold youngsters for long, especially if they were bright sparks, full of ambition. Plum sighed and got on with the jobs herself.

One afternoon in high summer, a large saloon car drew up, and a plump youngish man in a striped de mob suit jumped out of his seat, demanding to speak to Gloria.

He didn’t seem to know she’d moved away and then tried to wheedle her address from Plum. He said he had some catalogues to show her but he didn’t look Plum straight in the eye when she asked who he was. So this was the famous Ken Silverstone. Plum sensed he was a shifty piece of work. She had the feeling that she’d seen him somewhere before. She never forgot a face. No wonder Gloria hadn’t introduced him earlier. Then she recalled their first guests.

It was the man, who, way back, was one of her very first customers. But when she smiled and recognised him, he didn’t seem too pleased, especially when she fumbled and refused to give him Gloria’s new address, saying she’d mislaid it somewhere.

He was not who she imagined at all from Gloria’s description of her boyfriend: a florid little man who looked like a private eye in a gangster film, all teeth and moustache.

She was glad Gloria had given him the elbow. There was something of Gerald in his arrogant manner that irritated her.

They must do something about the divorce papers and end their shillyshallying once and for all. Who was there now to embarrass if the Belfield name appeared in the decree nisi columns? There must be thousands of couples all over the country getting unhitched from hasty wartime marriages, judging by the lines of names in the
Yorkshire Post.

Perhaps Maddy had been right to call things off with Greg before it all got complicated, but they had seemed so right for each other. Where had it gone wrong?

She hoped Maddy was not turning into a snob, thinking Gregory was beneath her?

She no longer understood young people these days–safer to stick to dogs and horses. They never let you down, she smiled, but it was all so unsettling.

Should she give up the catering business and rent the house to a proper family? It seemed such an indulgence to live in such a barn of a place on her own, but it wasn’t hers to sell or rent. By rights it would be Madeleine’s one day, after Plum died.

Perhaps it was time to let out rooms to lodgers, who could help to heat the place and give her some company. She could still run the guest rooms as a side line when it suited her.

Mr Hill was still struggling to contain the jungle in the kitchen garden.

At this rate, what with the WI and the church and guests, plus the garden, she’d be too tired for company in the evenings. The dogs needed her too, and the horses, she sighed, feeling sad and very alone.

How beautiful the garden looked in the setting sun, she smiled. Shadows across the lawn and the tall poplars lining the avenue on sentry duty, the swifts wheeling and swooping in the ink-blue sky and the bats darting around, the scent of the old Yorkshire rose dripping from the high wall in cascades of blooms, the old stones shimmering pink in the dusk.

How could she ever think of leaving here? Yet if Brooklyn didn’t earn its keep it’d have to go, Maddy or not. There wasn’t much left in the kitty for repairs. Sunshine and shadows together, pleasure and pain, black and white and all shades of grey in between: that was how her life felt now.