The Best of Daughters (15 page)

Mrs Cobb pushed her daughter aside. ‘Get back to the shop, silly girl. There'll be customers waiting to be served.'

Ada shook her head. ‘No, Mum. They all come with me. They wanted to see what had happened to her.' She stared down at Daisy, her brow puckered in a frown. ‘I was at the dance on Saturday night and I saw her canoodling with Barnaby Bowman . . .'

‘That's enough, Ada. Go back to the shop this instant and tell them all out there that the show's over. Miss Lennox is all right. It was just a swooning fit.'

Daisy raised herself with difficulty. The parlour behind the shop was small and crammed with huge old-fashioned furniture with hardly enough space to
walk between the sofa, chairs and a large tea table covered in a crimson chenille cloth. A sickly-looking aspidistra blocked the light from a small-paned window overlooking the back yard and the slaughterhouse. She could still smell blood and she felt her gorge rise. ‘Might I have a glass of water, please?'

Mrs Cobb turned to glare at her daughter who was hovering in the doorway. ‘You heard Miss Lennox. Fetch her some water and tell young Cyril to ride his bike to Rainbow's End and get someone to take her home.'

‘No, really,' Daisy protested. ‘I'll be quite all right to walk, if you'll just give me a moment.'

Mrs Cobb shooed Ada out of the door. ‘You stay put, miss. You don't want to go swooning the moment you get outside.' Her gaze wandered to Daisy's flat stomach. ‘I used to faint all over the place when I was expecting Ada.'

Horrified, Daisy half rose to her feet but sank down again holding her hand to her head. ‘It's not that, Mrs Cobb. How could you think such a thing? It's the heat and the sight and smell of blood.' She raised her handkerchief to her mouth, taking a deep breath. The parlour was stifling and the sofa smelled as though the horse was buried deep inside. She could almost feel the hooves sticking up through the faded velvet upholstery.

‘I told you to take it easy.' Mrs Cobb folded her arms across her ample bosom. ‘It's none of my business, miss. I daresay it happens in polite circles just the same as it does round here.' She edged her way to the door.
‘Rest there and I'll see what's happened to Ada. I'll bet she's forgotten the water and wandered off.' She hurried from the room, leaving Daisy alone in the semi-darkness. Despite her discomfort she lay back on the sofa, closing her eyes. Now it would be all round the village that she was in the family way. It would have been laughable had it not been so embarrassing, and of course she would prove them wrong, but the damage to her reputation would have been done. She could only hope and pray that the gossip did not reach as far as Pendleton Park. She would die if Rupert heard the rumour before she had had time to share the joke with him.

Moments later the sound of footsteps outside the door made her open her eyes. She thought it must be Ada bringing her the water, but when a familiar figure stepped into the room she snapped into a sitting position. ‘What are you doing here?'

Bowman knelt down beside her. ‘Are you all right?'

‘Get up, please. It was just a fainting fit. I can't stand the sight of blood.'

He stood up, a grin spreading across his features. ‘Wasn't it a bit foolish to shop here in the circumstances? I should have thought that this was the last place to go if you're squeamish.'

‘Go away, Bowman. I don't need you.'

He perched on the edge of an upright chair. ‘That's where you're wrong. It's lucky I had to go back to my workshop for some tools. I was just leaving when young Cyril saw me and called me back. I've come to take you home.'

‘I'm perfectly capable of finding my own way, thank you.'

‘Stand up.'

The abrupt command took her by surprise but as she rose to her feet she found herself swaying dizzily. Bowman caught her in his arms, holding her close. ‘This is becoming a habit, Daisy,' he said softly. ‘But don't think for a minute that I'm complaining.'

She made a feeble effort to push him away. ‘Let me go.'

‘Don't be silly. Lean on me and we'll get you outside into the fresh air. My motorcycle is outside and if you're not too proud you can ride on the crossbar.'

‘I'll walk. I wouldn't be seen dead perched on that contraption like some common shop girl.'

‘Suit yourself, but it's a long walk home.' He hitched her arm across his shoulders and helped her out through the shop into the sunshine. ‘Can you stand on your own?'

‘I haven't got my basket and my purse is in it, and I haven't done the shopping.' She was close to tears. She had failed miserably in a simple task that most of the women in the village would do every day without blinking an eye.

He twisted her round, looking into her eyes with a wry smile. ‘You do need looking after, don't you, Daisy? For all your airs and graces you're just a little girl when it comes to taking care of yourself.'

She felt herself weakening. The tug of physical attraction burned like a fire within her and she was tempted to melt into his embrace, but she had her pride and
he was a man with a reputation as a flirt. She was still Miss Lennox of Rainbow's End and he was a common labourer, but she was mesmerised by his unwavering gaze. She could not break away. He held her in his power just as Svengali had captured Trilby in the novel she had read over and over again, never thinking that it could apply to her. She had prided herself on being a strong-minded woman. She was a suffragist and yet she had fallen under the spell of this man.

She dimly heard the sound of an approaching motorcar but it was not until it pulled up that she looked round and found herself face to face with Rupert and Lady Pendleton.

RUPERT'S FACE WAS
like thunder as he climbed out of the driver's seat and strode towards them, resplendent in the uniform of the Rifle Brigade. ‘What's going on?' he demanded, glaring at Bowman who had released Daisy and was regarding him with a cynical curl of his lip.

‘What does it look like, Captain?'

‘It looks as though you were being rather too familiar.' Rupert turned his attention to Daisy and his eyes flashed with anger. ‘Was this fellow bothering you, Daisy?'

‘No, Rupert. You've got it all wrong. You know that I can't stand the sight of blood and I'm afraid I passed out in the butcher's shop. Such an embarrassing thing to happen.'

His expression changed to one of concern. ‘Are you all right now?' He placed his arm around her shoulders. ‘Let me take you home.'

‘That's just what I was about to do,' Bowman said, clenching his fists at his sides. ‘What's the problem, Captain?'

Rupert shot a scornful look at the motorcycle. ‘You're thinking of taking Miss Lennox on that suicidal machine? You must be mad. You'll come with me, Daisy.'

She knew it was useless to argue. Despite his quiet manner, Rupert was not the sort of man to take no for an answer in a situation where he believed that he was protecting her honour. She would have some explanations to make but not now. Her head was aching and her knees felt weak. Whether that was a result of the swoon or the fact that Bowman had held her in his arms, she hardly dared to think. She leaned against Rupert's brass-buttoned tunic with an overwhelming feeling of relief. He was her friend after all, and he was part of the world she knew and trusted. ‘Thank you, Rupert. That would be most kind.' She met Bowman's quizzical gaze with an attempt at a smile. ‘Thank you for being concerned, but as you can see I'll be quite all right now.' She allowed Rupert to help her into the back seat of the Prince Henry. Leaning against the padded leather squabs she struggled to control her erratic breathing.

‘What happened, Rupert?' Lady Pendleton demanded when, having cranked the engine into life, he took his seat beside her. ‘Is Daisy ill?'

‘Just a touch of the sun, I expect, Mother.' He drove off in a flurry of dust. ‘I'm taking her home.'

Lady Pendleton turned to Daisy with a look of concern. ‘You do look pale, my dear. Perhaps we should send for the doctor.'

‘No, really I am fine now, Lady Pendleton. I have this dreadful tendency to faint at the sight of blood. I thought I'd conquered it enough to shop at the butcher's, but apparently not.'

‘You poor dear. We'll get you home quickly and you
must lie down in a darkened room with a cold compress on your forehead.'

‘I'm not sure that will be possible. I'm afraid I left my purse and shopping basket in the butcher's shop. I'll have to return to the village later anyway as there are things we need urgently.'

Lady Pendleton frowned. ‘You work too hard. I'll have a word with Gwendoline. I doubt if she realises how much you do for that family of yours. You weren't brought up to be a skivvy.'

‘Quite right, Mother.' Rupert changed gear as they approached the sharp bend in the road that had claimed the Humberette. ‘You've been taking on too much, Daisy—' He broke off and swerved as Bowman shot past them on his motorcycle. ‘Damned road hog!'

Bowman lifted his hand in a salute, and as he disappeared from view Daisy noticed that her shopping basket was tied to the parcel carrier on the back of his machine. Rupert took the corner at a much more sedate speed and pulled up outside the stable block. He climbed out of the car. ‘Are you coming in, Mother?'

She nodded. ‘Of course I am. Gwendoline would take it very much to heart if we were to drive off without passing the time of day at least, and I do want a word with her about Daisy.' She accepted Rupert's hand as he helped her from her seat. ‘I think it best if I see her on my own.'

Daisy alighted from the car unaided. ‘Please don't say anything to upset Mother,' she said anxiously. ‘You must know that her nerves have been in a very delicate
state since we were forced to leave the house in Warwick Square.'

Lady Pendleton regarded her with the air of someone who understood only too well. ‘I know that, Daisy. I listen to your mother going on about it every week when she comes to tea, and I have to say I'm running out of patience with her. I don't wish to be unkind, but one day I will tell her to stop feeling sorry for herself and take control of her life.' She marched towards the house leaving Rupert and Daisy staring at each other in surprise.

‘By golly, I've never heard Mother speak so passionately about anything,' Rupert said, smiling for the first time since they met that day. ‘She's quite a force majeure when she's got a bee in one of her couture bonnets, the cost of which would feed the average working man's family for a month at least.'

Daisy returned his smile. She had feared for a moment that she had gone down in his estimation, and that hurt more than she could have imagined. ‘I didn't know that you held such egalitarian views, Rupert.'

‘I hope I'm a fair man. I've been brought up to believe that with wealth and privilege comes responsibility.'

‘Noblesse oblige and all that.'

‘You were always making fun of me when we were children. If anyone kept my feet on the ground it was you, Daisy Bell.' He proffered his arm. ‘Shall we go for a walk in the garden before you go back to slaving in the kitchen like a modern Cinderella? I've been dying to talk to you and to apologise properly for my uncouth behaviour.'

She took his arm with a sigh. ‘Me too, Rupert. I should have expressed myself better, but I do care for you, you know that.'

‘Of course I do, and as I've got a week's leave, let's make the most of our time together.'

‘Will you let me drive the Prince Henry?'

‘Better than that, I'll get you a driving licence tomorrow, and then you'll be a legal road user.'

‘That would be absolutely splendid. Thank you.' As they walked towards the side gate a small sound behind them made Daisy look round. Bowman was standing in the doorway of the coach house smoking a cigarette and judging by the look on his face he had heard every word they said. She looked away quickly, fighting down the desire to rush over to him and explain that Rupert was simply an old friend. She tightened her hold on his arm and they strolled through the kitchen garden and out onto the sunny lawn. He stopped, raising his face to the hot summer sun. ‘This is glorious, Daisy.' He released her, encompassing their surroundings with an expansive gesture. ‘This is what a soldier fights to protect.' He looked suddenly bashful like a schoolboy caught writing a love poem. ‘And our wives and sweethearts of course: that goes without saying. I don't believe in killing but if there is a war I'll do my bit, just as my ancestors have done in centuries past.'

‘Then let's hope that the Germans are just sabre-rattling. That's what Father thinks anyway.'

He gave her a long look. ‘Let's hope so, but if it does come to war I'd like to know that there was someone special praying for my safe return.'

‘We would all be praying for that, Rupert.'

‘That's not what I meant and you know it.' He took her by the hand, holding it in a firm grasp. ‘Have you changed your mind at all?' His lips twisted into a wry smile. ‘Is there any hope for us, Daisy?'

She met his earnest gaze with a steadiness that surprised her. It would be so easy to say yes and accept all that he had to offer, but somehow the words stuck in her throat, and it was not only her feelings for Bowman that were holding her back. Somewhere deep in her soul she felt the need to prove herself as a person. Surely there must be more to life than being passed like a chattel from father to husband? Her brief connection with the suffragette movement had given her a taste of freedom of thought if not deeds, but even that was denied her now that she was buried deep in the Essex countryside. Shaking her head, she lifted his hand to her cheek. ‘Not now, Rupert. Maybe never, I just don't know, and it's not fair to keep you waiting for an answer.'