Promise Made (11 page)

‘What will you do now?' Frances said. ‘That was a good job and there aren't so many about these days.' She didn't like the idea of Marcus having to take a menial job in a factory.

‘Mother said she would give me some money,' Marcus said. ‘I could start a small business myself – perhaps in haulage. It won't be like Father's firm, because I'll only have one lorry for a start and I'll do long-haul journeys. I think there is more money in that over time. You'll see, I shall soon make a decent living for us, and then I can employ others – and I don't need
his
dirty money to start me off. Mother's money came from her family. It doesn't have the taint of his filthy hands on it.'

Marcus sounded so bitter that Frances wondered what was behind his hatred of Sam Danby. Before the war they hadn't always got on, but they had rubbed along most of the time. Just what was it that Marcus had discovered about that property in London that had made him despise his father so much?

Vane saw Emily coming across the lawn towards the house. Her hair was swinging loose about her shoulders, soft and slightly waving. He was glad that she had not cut it in the modern fashion, because he liked it this way. She had such an air about her these days, something she was totally unaware of, he was sure. It made people turn their heads to watch her, and it brought her respect.

He knew he was right to choose her. She was the chatelaine that Vanbrough needed, the one who would bring life to this house he loved so dearly. He had chaffed against the bonds when he was younger, but as he grew older and discovered the disappointments of life, it was the house that had sustained him – and it would sustain her when he was gone.

Vane rubbed at his chest, feeling the pain that sometimes spread as far as his arm. It lived with him almost constantly these days and he knew that it couldn't be much longer. He would have to leave her soon – his Emily. It was a terrible burden he meant to lay on her shoulders but there was no one else.

Would she accept it? He knew that he could not force her, but he believed that she felt it too – this love that had tortured him and delighted him for so many years. Vanbrough would live on through Emily and her son. He could go to his grave happy in the knowledge that she would not betray his trust.

Smiling, he went out to meet her. There was not much time left and he could not bear to waste a second . . .

Five

‘I wish you had come down for harvest,' Frances said when she telephoned her sister one cold and wet day in September. ‘Alice had a party at hers and it was really nice. The house is big and old – and I wouldn't fancy living out in the fen the way they do – but it was hot that day. She had a table out in the back yard and it was lovely. The children had a treasure hunt and lots of little presents. Alice cooked a huge amount of food and made fruit squash, and we all had a wonderful time – but I missed you. We don't see enough of you, Emily.'

‘I couldn't get away,' Emily said, feeling a little regretful that she had missed such a nice family get together. ‘Alice asked me to come and stay, of course, but I was needed here. We always have a summer party for the patients and their relatives, and we had a good time here too. Nurse Rose organized a treasure hunt, which was great fun.'

‘You devote all your time to that place,' Frances said and Emily detected a note of resentment in her voice. ‘I wanted to talk to you. I know we can talk on the telephone, but it isn't the same.'

‘No, I don't suppose it is,' Emily said. She heard something behind her and glanced over her shoulder. ‘Look, I have to go, Frances. Someone needs me. I will ring you this evening – and I'll try to get down again soon.'

‘You're always saying that,' Frances said. ‘You haven't been near since Henry died. Anyone would think he was the only brother you had!' She put the receiver down with a little bang.

Emily looked at the telephone for a moment. Frances was right in a way; she had neglected her family since Henry's death. It wasn't that she didn't care, but they'd had one crisis after another here and . . . Oh, she wasn't sure why she was reluctant to leave Vanbrough at the moment. Amelia hadn't made any threats recently, but she was becoming more and more possessive of Robert.

Emily sighed and got up. She knew why she had been summoned. One of their patients had taken a turn for the worse in the night. He was only twenty-four and they had had hopes of sending him home soon. She had a feeling that he would not last more than a few hours – and his family lived too far away to get here in time. Emily would sit with him until the last.

Frances looked uneasily at the clock. She seemed to be doing this more and more often of late, her life dominated by the slow moving hands that ticked away the seconds of her life. A harsh laugh escaped her, for such fanciful thoughts were foreign to her and brought on by her feeling of impending doom.

Marcus was late home again. She couldn't complain, because as far as she knew he was keeping his promise not to drink. He had even given up having a glass of wine with his dinner, because he said it always made him want something more – something stronger. These past few months he had been coming home later and later, but it was because he had to drive long distances. Frances wasn't happy about him being away so much, but he seemed happier now that he was his own boss.

She had learned not to cook anything that wouldn't keep when he was out on one of his runs. She usually made pies that would warm up quickly or did something on toast when he came in, though often he would say that he had eaten at a cafe somewhere.

She heard the front door bell ring and sighed with relief. That must be Marcus at last! He had probably forgotten his key. She went through the hall and opened the door, but the smile died on her lips as she saw that it was a policeman standing there. Her heart jerked wildly and her knees felt as if they had suddenly turned to jelly.

‘Is it my husband?' she asked fearfully. ‘Has there been an accident?'

‘Are you Mrs Marcus Danby?' the officer asked and frowned as she nodded, too frightened to speak. ‘I'm not here about your husband, madam. I understand that Connor Searles is your brother?'

‘Yes, he is . . .' Frances felt the fear draining away to be replaced by anger. ‘What has he done? I hope he isn't in trouble, officer?'

‘Yes, well, I am afraid he may well be,' the policeman told her. ‘We've got him and another lad in the cells at Ely. It seems that they took one of the punts out of the boatyard without paying for the hire . . .'

‘A lot of the lads do that if they can get away with it,' Frances said, for she knew that Henry and Cley had done it when they were youths, and plenty of other kids did it too. ‘Surely you didn't have to lock my brother up for that? It was only a lark.'

‘A bit more than that, madam. The boat was damaged and the owner says he wants to press charges. He has had enough of the kids thinking they can just take his property when they feel like it.'

‘Damaged . . . how badly?'

‘I think it was substantial,' the officer said. ‘Anyway, would you like to come and see Connor this evening? We prefer that a parent or relative should be there before he is charged.'

‘I have a young child in bed and my husband isn't home. I can't come out and leave my son alone. May I telephone my brother Daniel?' Frances asked, blessing Daniel for having had one fitted at his house.

‘Yes, that might be the best.' The officer frowned. ‘Does he live in Stretton Village?'

‘No. His house is further out in the fen – but he has a car and he has recently had the telephone connected.'

‘You had better do that then, madam. Well, I'll get back to the station. I thought I would come in person as that lad needs someone to speak up for him.'

‘Thank you for coming to tell me.'

Frances closed the door and went to the telephone, her finger working swiftly as she dialled her brother's house. It was Alice who answered it almost at once. Frances explained and asked if Daniel would go into Ely and sort things out with the police.

‘He isn't home at the moment,' Alice said. ‘But he shouldn't be too long.'

‘I can't leave Charlie or I would go myself. Besides, Daniel ought to be there. If we don't do something they might take Connor to court this time.'

‘I'll tell Dan as soon as he comes home,' Alice said. ‘Don't worry, love. It isn't that serious. The boatyard owner may settle if we offer to pay for the damage.'

‘Yes, well, it might do Connor good to be taught a lesson,' Frances said. ‘I can't cope with him, Alice. He needs someone to keep him in line – and the only one who might be able to do that is Daniel.'

Frances put the phone down before Alice could answer. Daniel seemed to have forgotten his promise to take his brother on when he got home. She had agreed to have him for the duration of the war, but she'd had more than enough of trying to keep him out of trouble.

She went upstairs as she heard a cry from Charlie. He must have heard voices and he probably thought that his father was home. A spasm of nerves clutched at her stomach. Why wasn't Marcus back? She prayed fervently that he hadn't had an accident.

Why did her life have to be so complicated? All she wanted was to be a wife and mother and not have to worry.

‘Well, what did you think you were up to?' Daniel asked as he was driving his brother home later that night. ‘Taking the punt was one thing. I've done it myself when I was a lad, and I know it seems a laugh – but sinking it was a bit much, wasn't it?'

‘We didn't mean to do it,' Connor said, feeling ashamed. ‘Honest, Dan, it wasn't all our fault. The other bloke was hopeless at steering the houseboat he'd hired. He ran into us – it was his fault the punt was so badly damaged, and we managed to get it back to the yard.'

‘Where it sank within minutes,' Daniel said. He sighed, because he didn't want to make a big fuss over something he believed was a bit of fun gone wrong, but it had cost him twenty pounds to sort out the mess, money he could ill afford to waste. ‘I paid him off, Connor, but you were lucky this time. It might have led to an appearance in court – and you don't want that, do you? What kind of a job do you think you will find then?'

‘I don't know . . .' Connor looked at him awkwardly. ‘I'm sorry, Dan. I know you couldn't afford to pay for the damage. I'll pay you back when I start to earn money.'

Daniel shook his head. ‘It doesn't matter, just don't do it again. Have you made up your mind that you've finished with school?'

‘Yes. I know Frances thinks I should stay on and take my higher exams – but I don't want to go to college, Dan. I want to work on a farm. I've wanted that ever since I was a lad and Dad took me with him to the yard.'

‘Well, I might put those fields down to arable next year,' Daniel said. ‘And there's a bit of land in the fen that I might be able to get cheap. We could buy some more pigs and perhaps a couple of cows . . .'

‘Are you saying I could work for you?'

‘Maybe in a while,' Daniel said. ‘But I'm not ready just yet. We'll have to see what else we can find for you for a few months.'

‘All right,' Connor said, though his expression was mutinous. ‘But I'm not going back to school next week. I want to work same as my mates. And I'm fed up living with Frances and Marcus. I know she doesn't want me there.'

‘Well, I'll take you back to mine for the night,' Daniel said. ‘I'll ring her and let her know – and then we'll see.'

‘I don't want him back here,' Frances said when Daniel rang her late that evening. She was still on edge, because Marcus had just come in and gone straight to bed. She suspected that he might have been drinking heavily. ‘It's your turn to have him, Daniel.'

‘Yes, I know,' he said. ‘I promised him I would. I'll have a word with Alice. We've got plenty of room here – and he can give me a hand with the pigs. I'm probably going to buy a bit more land here. It's going cheap and we can put up more sties.'

‘I thought you wanted to be a mechanic not a pig farmer?'

‘It is what I want, but at the moment I'm having to do what I can to hold things together,' Daniel said. ‘Most of what I had was in the farm, Frances. It wasn't just Henry that lost out.'

‘I am well aware of that,' Frances said sharply. ‘I was expecting something from the sale but it all went for nothing.'

‘Yes, I'm afraid it did,' Daniel said. ‘But you're all right, Fran. You and Marcus have no need to worry. Sam will never let his family starve.'

‘Marcus has had a fight with his father,' Frances said. ‘You know he bought a lorry of his own and is doing haulage work.'

‘I thought all that would blow over,' Daniel said. ‘Marcus is a fool if he doesn't make it up with his father. Sam may be a bit of a rogue in some ways, but he cares about his family. Marcus could be throwing a fortune away if he keeps this up.'

‘You don't know Sam Danby at all,' Frances said, a little shudder running through her. ‘You can come and fetch Connor's things when you are ready. I'll pack them for you. He hasn't got that much anyway.'

‘Yes, all right,' Daniel said. ‘But talk to Sam yourself, Frances. It doesn't make sense to throw away all the advantages that Marcus might have had working for his father . . .'

Frances put the receiver down with a little bang. She was relieved that Daniel had at last decided to do his bit for his brother. She had certainly done her share, and she couldn't put up with it any longer. She had enough worries of her own.

‘Tell Connor I should like to see him,' Emily said when Daniel rang her the next day. ‘I'm glad you're going to have him with you, Dan, because I know he wasn't happy at Frances's house. But before he settles down with you, I should like him to come on a visit here. It might give him some ideas about what he wants to do with his life. I don't think he has ever been farther away than a day at Yarmouth with his friends.'