Promise Made (4 page)

‘Don't be too angry with him,' Alice pleaded, half-wishing she hadn't told her sister-in-law anything. She liked her husband's youngest brother and wouldn't want him to get into trouble because of something she had said. ‘He's had a rough time these past few years.'

‘No more than a good many other lads.'

‘Connor was terribly upset when he thought Daniel had been killed,' Alice reminded her.

‘Yes, I daresay, but he has known that his brother is all right for a while now. Besides, being worried doesn't excuse his behaviour – especially if he has been getting into some mischief.'

‘No, I suppose not,' Alice said, but she couldn't help thinking that the lad was still missing his father and that Frances might have been a little kinder to her young brother. ‘Well, Dan will be home soon. I daresay he will soon sort him out.'

‘Yes,' Frances agreed. ‘If Connor will listen to anyone it's Daniel. He certainly takes no notice of anything I say to him.'

Frances heard the peel of the doorbell with a sinking heart. Each week she hoped that her father-in-law would forget to come or be too busy, but he was as regular as clockwork in his visits. She went to open the door, putting on a smile that did not reach her eyes.

‘Frances,' Sam said, leaning forward to kiss her. She turned her head sharply so that his wet lips found her cheek and not her mouth. ‘You look lovely as always. How is my boy today?'

‘He is in trouble for pulling the puppy's tail,' Frances said coldly. ‘I told you he was too young, Sam. The poor creature yelped with pain and I had to smack Charlie to teach him a lesson.'

‘You're too hard on the child,' Sam said and frowned. ‘I don't suppose he meant to hurt the dog – and I doubt any lasting harm was done. Dogs are resilient creatures.'

‘That's as maybe,' Frances said feeling resentful because she had known he would take the boy's side. He always made her feel as if she were the wicked witch instead of Charlie's loving mother. ‘But if you had waited a couple of years, he would have been old enough to understand.'

‘I'll talk to him,' Sam replied. ‘You make too much of things, Frances. Get that from your mother, I shouldn't wonder. She was always the nervous type.'

Frances bit back the angry retort that sprung to her lips. She would have liked to say a lot more, but she was living in her father-in-law's house. He had supposedly bought it for her and Marcus as a wedding gift, but as yet it remained in his own name. They could always move, of course, but this house had been in her family until her brothers had been forced to sell to pay their stepmother out. There wasn't another house in the village as nice, apart from Sam Danby's own house of course.

She turned and led the way into the drawing room. She always entertained Sam in the large formal room, because the sitting room she favoured was too intimate and she did not want the smell of him to linger there. He was a large man who sweated when it was warm, and his clothes had a tang of tobacco smoke and perspiration.

‘Please sit down,' she said in a cool tone. ‘I shall fetch Charlie downstairs and then we'll have tea.'

‘Why not sit with me on your own for a few minutes?' Sam Danby asked. There was a suggestive leer about his thick lips that made her shudder inwardly. ‘You could be a little warmer towards me, Frannie. I'm a generous man when I'm pleased. You know I like you . . .'

‘Excuse me, I must fetch my son.' Frances walked hurriedly from the room, wishing that she hadn't sent her son to his room earlier. He had deserved the punishment, but her father-in-law would never make that kind of suggestion to her with his beloved grandson in the room. The thought of his touching her in the way his manner seemed to suggest he wanted to touch her, made her feel sick inside. She paused outside her son's bedroom for a moment, the revulsion swirling inside her.

Oh, God, how long must she put up with this? She had hoped Marcus would be home by now but he had been delayed and it would be the weekend before he was here. Taking a deep breath, Frances went into the bedroom and picked Charlie up. He had been lying on the bed looking at his books, his face stained with tears.

‘Mummy is sorry for smacking you,' she told him. ‘But you hurt the dog and you mustn't do that, darling. Come along now, your grandfather is waiting.' He patted her face with his rather grubby hands and smiled at her, making her heart turn over. She loved him so much and it wasn't his fault. He wasn't old enough to understand. ‘That's a good boy,' she said and set him down. ‘Go to Grandad now, love.'

She followed as he bolted down the stairs, taking a deep breath before she entered the sitting room. Perhaps this was the last time she need endure this ordeal. She could talk to Marcus, tell him how she felt without making a big thing of it.

It was nearly nine thirty when Connor came in that evening. Frances was still up, sitting in the room she liked best, working at her knitting. She heard her brother trying to creep up the stairs and went out into the hall after him.

‘Where have you been until this time of night? And why weren't you in school today?' Her voice was angry, raised because she was emotional and she had been worried about him.

‘We had a day off for good behaviour,' Connor said but he couldn't look at her and she knew he was making it up.

‘Don't lie to me,' she said, glaring at him. ‘You are such a troublesome boy, Connor. Surely you know that it is in your best interests to stay on at school and learn all you can? Do you want to be like Henry? He left to work on the farm when he was fourteen and he can hardly manage the accounts.'

‘Henry's all right,' her brother said, a sullen slant to his mouth. He looked at her resentfully. They had never been close and he missed Emily and Daniel. ‘At least he doesn't nag the way you do, Frances.'

‘He doesn't have to look after you,' she snapped, because she was tired and upset. ‘And where did you get the money for the pictures? Don't say that Peter Robinson paid because he doesn't have any money, Alice told me so.'

‘Alice doesn't know everything,' Connor said. ‘We helped out for a few hours on Mr Robinson's farm and he gave us five bob each.'

‘That sounds extraordinarily generous of him,' Frances said, not believing a word. ‘I can always ask him you know.'

Connor stared at her, mutiny in his eyes. ‘I don't care what you do. It's none of your business anyway. I shan't live here with you once Dan gets back.'

‘Dan hasn't got anywhere to live yet,' Frances said. ‘And Henry doesn't need the worry of you getting into trouble. The last thing I want is the police coming round here again. I told you the last time that I wouldn't put up with it.'

‘We were only scrumping in Granny Hern's orchard,' Connor said and grinned. ‘She's an old witch. She runs out after the kids with her stick and waves it at them. We only done it for a dare.'

‘You “did it” not “done it”,' Frances corrected. ‘Don't they teach you anything at that school of yours?'

‘Not a lot,' Connor said and grinned at her. In that moment he looked very much like Daniel and she softened towards him. ‘Nothing I want to learn leastwise. Can I go to bed now?'

‘Yes, go on,' Frances said and gave him a reluctant smile. ‘Don't wake Charlie. I had a terrible time getting him to sleep tonight. His grandfather gets him too excited. He has now promised to buy him a pony of all things!'

‘Dad bought us boys ponies,' Connor said. ‘What's wrong with Charlie having one? You rode when you were younger. Henry told me about it. He taught you.'

Frances bit her lip. ‘Yes, well, that was different. I was eleven when I started to ride. Charlie is much too young.'

‘He won't come to harm if someone looks after him,' Connor said. ‘You can't keep him in cotton wool forever, Frannie.'

‘Don't call me that!' She was reminded of Sam Danby's words earlier that afternoon. He often called her by that name and she hated it. Her bruised feelings made her sharper than she intended. ‘Go to bed – and behave yourself. Marcus will be home this weekend and I'll get him to take a strap to you if I find out that you've been up to something dishonest.'

‘Marcus isn't my father – and he isn't my brother either,' Connor said defiantly. ‘If he takes a strap to me he'll be sorry – and so will you!' He ducked his head down and ran up the stairs, leaving Frances to stare after him in frustration. The trouble with Connor was that for the past four years there had been no one he respected around to discipline him. Henry was busy, tired and ill, he couldn't be expected to administer physical punishment, and she hadn't tried. In fact she had closed her eyes to what her young brother was doing, because she didn't want to know.

She would be glad when Marcus was home – and Daniel too. Perhaps then Connor would realize he couldn't continue to run wild.

Everything would be better once Marcus was home!

Frances looked at the clock for perhaps the fiftieth time in an hour. When he'd phoned her the previous evening, Marcus had said he hoped to be home by lunchtime and it was now half-past four in the afternoon. Where could he have got to? She jumped to her feet as she heard the sound of a car engine outside, running to the door eagerly.

‘Marcus!' she cried as he got out of the car. ‘I was starting to worry . . .'

‘Sorry, old girl,' Marcus said. He took two strides towards her, sweeping her up in a bear hug and swinging her off her feet. ‘I was late getting away – bit of a get together with the lads – and then I called to see Mother. Father wasn't there but it was her I wanted to see . . .'

‘Oh . . .' Frances felt a bit resentful. He ought to have come straight home and visited his parents another time. ‘I thought you would be here for lunch . . .'

‘Mother wrote to me, asked me to call,' he said. ‘She was worried about something and wanted to talk when Father wasn't around, that's all. Anyway, I'm here now – where is Charlie?'

‘Connor took him for a walk,' Frances said. ‘He was a bit fretful. I expect they will be back soon – but we have a few minutes alone.'

‘Missed me that much?' Marcus lifted his fine brows. Frances felt her heart turn over. He wasn't in the least like his father. His aristocratic looks were a part of what had made her fall for him in the first place, and must have come from his mother. ‘It's all right, darling. I'm home to stay now. You won't have to cope with everything alone. Mother told me you find Charlie a bit of a handful, but now I'm here and it won't be so hard for you.'

‘Oh . . .' Frances wasn't sure how she felt about Marcus talking of her with his mother that way. ‘He is strong headed sometimes – and your father spoils him. He bought him that puppy and now he is talking about buying him a pony for Christmas. Charlie isn't old enough to start riding, Marcus. I don't want him to have a pony yet, but your father won't listen to me. He says I'm too strict with the boy.'

‘Well, I'm here now,' Marcus said. ‘We'll see how things go, darling. Father is a bit domineering sometimes I know – but I see no harm in Charlie having a pony as long as he doesn't ride it alone.' He smiled at her. ‘Come here and kiss me. I haven't seen you for months.'

Frances felt her knees weaken as she walked into his arms. His smile had always affected her this way. She had fallen in love with him when she was still at school and the time they had spent apart during the war had only made her long for his return.

‘I do love you,' she said, lifting her face for his kiss. For a moment she melted into his body, feeling the familiar rush of desire. ‘Marcus . . . it's so good to have you home. I've been so lonely for you.'

‘Me too,' he said, kissing the bridge of her nose once before releasing her. ‘Have you any whisky in the house, darling? I could really do with a drink.'

‘Yes, I think there is some left from the last time you were home,' Frances said feeling oddly disappointed. His kiss had aroused her as always but she'd felt an odd reserve in him, as if he were holding back. ‘We could go upstairs for a while . . .'

‘Later,' Marcus said easily, searching for and finding the whisky bottle in the sideboard. ‘I shall have to go into Ely tomorrow and see what I can find to fill this up. I like a few drinks, Frances. It's a way of life you get into, having a drink with the lads after a tough operation.'

‘But it is over now, isn't it?' Frances looked at him anxiously. ‘You won't have to go back?'

‘No. I am officially a civilian again,' Marcus said but something flickered in his eyes that bothered her. ‘I shall have to find myself some kind of a job, I suppose.'

‘But won't you work for your father?' Frances had somehow taken it for granted. Sam Danby owned a substantial amount of agricultural land in the area, but he also ran a small fleet of lorries and she suspected that there were other businesses.

‘I'm not sure,' Marcus told her with a frown. ‘We never got round to discussing it. I went straight from college to the RAF and . . .' He shrugged. ‘I can't see myself managing the farm. Perhaps the lorries . . . or one of his other businesses . . .'

‘Does he have others?' she looked at him curiously. She knew there was some property in London, but Sam was close-mouthed on the subject.

‘Yes, I think so. I can't imagine all the money comes through the lorries or the land. As you know, he has some sort of property in London. Mother says he goes up two or three times a month. He doesn't tell her anything, of course, but I might prefer property management to anything else.' He finished his drink and poured himself the rest of what was left in the bottle. ‘Damn! You haven't got any more anywhere?'

‘No, I'm sorry,' Frances said. ‘I didn't think about it. Besides, you never used to drink that much . . .'