The Crimson Bed (36 page)

    
The silly suspicions I harbour
, he thought,
are just my own
jealous nature. Othello was an angel compared to me. I know
myself to be wrong. I will not allow myself to be suspicious of my
beloved Ellie.

    'Mother, why are you telling me this? It's all so much nonsense. I don't believe a word of it.'

    'It's common knowledge, my dear, common knowledge,' his mother replied equably. 'They say that he keeps a special house somewhere in St John's Wood or so I have heard. And maintains an interesting establishment there, I do believe.'

    'I'd like to know just where you heard all that. I wish you wouldn't repeat gossip, Ma, I really do. You have no proof and it's probably all rubbish!'

    However, the seed of doubt was sown and Fred felt it confirmed all the disquiet he tended to feel whenever he was around Dillinger. He knew perfectly well that many gentlemen took a lady under their 'protection' and established them in separate houses. Why should Dillinger not do the same? He was a widower and had no need to find a wife now that his children were all adults. Perhaps he preferred to satisfy his needs in other ways. All quite acceptable amongst gentlemen. But suppose that he was also satisfying himself with Ellie? She doted on him so much and there was such a bond of affection between them. It may well have slipped over the borders of convention into something else. Why not? He was still a handsome man, influential, rich. He spoilt Ellie all the time.

    Something was not right there, by God. Maybe his mother was right and trying to warn him.

    He felt angry after leaving Beatrice that day. Her poison wormed its way into him and though he knew his mother was a notorious gossip, the poison worked well. Despite the good sense of his rational mind, he could not help but watch his wife closely from then on. He took to slipping into her bedroom occasionally when she was out somewhere and looking through her little desk and chest of drawers. Maybe she was hiding something, some
billet doux
that had been sent to her. He searched often yet found nothing but the compulsion to keep looking was upon him.

Fred came home one afternoon to find Ellie putting on her gloves and hat, a hired cab at the door ready to take her out.

    'Who are you visiting, Ellie?'

    Ellie turned and looked at him. She had not expected him home quite so early and had hoped to set forth on her visit without his constant enquiry as to where she was going and what she was doing all the time.

    'I'm going to Kensington.'

    'To visit Dillinger, I suppose?' An unpleasant change came over Fred's face as he said this.

    'As it happens I
shall
call briefly on Dillie but I do have my friend Martha Simmonds living close by, have I not? I shall call on her too. She has just had another child recently and I'd like to see the baby.'

    '
Why
do you need to see Dillinger? You were there only a few days ago.'

    'Fred, why are you questioning me? What is this nonsense? You know full well that I like to visit my godfather. I
like
his company and dear Lottie will also be there with her children. These are my oldest friends and I love them.'

    'Sometimes I think you love them more than us.'

    Ellie sighed. 'You do talk nonsense, dearest. You know full well that is not true. Am I to be kept chained to a chair so that you might feel more comfortable? Am I to be a prisoner?'

    Fred forced a smile. 'No, no, Ellie. It's just that... it's just Lord Dillinger. You know how much I dislike the man.'

    'You are irrational, Fred. Do you dislike poor Lottie too?'

    'Not at all, she is a very pleasant girl.'

    'Then forget Dillinger. Assume that I am going to see Lottie and her children. Surely you can have no objection to that?'

    'No, of course I haven't.'

    'It saddens me, Fred, it saddens me that you harbour this dislike for someone I truly love and care for. And now that dear Papa has gone, I feel this love even more deeply.'

    'Yes, Ellie, you are right. I am sorry.'

    She gave a light little laugh and patted his cheek with her gloved hand.

    'Men are so nonsensical,' she said, 'like rams lowering their horns at one another.'

    When she had left in the cab, Fred stood irresolutely at the window watching her off and then pulled the bell.

    'Send up some coffee to my study,' he said to the housemaid who curtsied and went off to the kitchen to do his bidding.

    On the way to his study, which was on the first floor of the house, he paused outside Ellie's bedroom door. He felt a peculiar compulsion to enter the room. Standing in the doorway, he looked around him, sniffing with a dog-like intensity the sweet perfume of lavender and rose that always seemed to linger in the air here.

    How strange that bed was, the old bed of her ancestral mothers! It almost seemed alive at times if one stared at it long enough. The tendrils and leaves quivered with unseen vibrations, centuries of use and polishing and the energies of its female owners. It was almost like a sacred space and he knew, as he had always known, that he was unwelcome there. It was a feminine place and his maleness seemed to violate it in some way. Perhaps that was why he still felt so uncomfortable when making love to her in it. How natural and easy it had seemed with Sue! Sordid perhaps when judged by other people's standards, yet at the same time natural, and easy and at the time rewarding. For once, he understood why Henry had always preferred such women. If only the two women could somehow be put together. Nevertheless, he knew that he would not want Ellie to be as carnal and degenerate as Sue. He loved his wife for her beauty, her ladylike ways, her honour and faithfulness; he wanted desperately to believe that she was still his fair lady without taint or dishonour upon her soul. But was she?

    Some instinct moved him to go up to the bed and feel beneath the pillow. His hand closed upon a little book, which he drew forth. It was a little pocket bible. He was surprised by this. Ellie had never seemed very bent on praying or reading out of the bible more than was considered right and proper.

    A piece of yellowing paper fluttered out of the leaves and Fred bent to retrieve it. His heart suddenly constricted with pain as he recognised the Dillinger seal upon it.

    With trembling hands, he opened up the almost crumbling paper and read the words...

Dearest, I am driven half-mad with grief after seeing
you and learning how we have in some cruel manner been
parted, kept away from one another. I am in despair! How
could you marry another; desert me? We must meet one
more time at least, speak to each other, renew our love. I
know you still care. I see it and feel it, you cannot pretend
with me. May I call on you tomorrow at 10 am after
breakfast? It may be the only time available to me. You
must allow me to come, you must!

He frowned. The words seemed peculiar, the undated paper old and tired, scarcely a recent note. Yet it was certainly from Lord Dillinger, the writing was similiar though a larger scrawl than his normal style, more fervent and hurried as befitted the feelings expressed. He had sent it to her a long time ago and for reasons of her own, she had cherished it. There was no mistake – it declared his love for Ellie. Yet, something seemed wrong. Fred found it hard to imagine Dillinger using such youthful and passionate terms. It was a mystery but it proved one thing. Ellie was not the pure creature he had always assumed her to be. She had had a dalliance with Dillinger of some sort and his worst suspicions were realised.

Chapter 32

It transpired that Mrs Tippy Winstone was expecting a child very soon, which went some way to explain the haste with which the young couple had married and moved out of those frightful lodgings by the docks. Fred had suspected something of the sort. He was glad because it meant that Henry was at last obliged to remove himself from that insalubrious area and settle himself down in a decent home with a pleasant young wife. Tippy had shaped up nicely and did her very best to conduct herself in a ladylike manner.

    'Gabriel and Lizzie are still stuck at Blackfriars, I hear,' Henry informed Fred and Ellie when they came round to dinner one evening in the new abode. 'He says he can't find a suitable house round your way and so he's renting both of the first floor apartments at Chatham Place and has made them into one. He's far too fussy though I suspect the fault lies with Lizzie who claims she is always so unwell. Can't think what the matter is with the girl. She was well enough to go to France, that's for sure and seems to be forever gadding off somewhere or other. I consider it to be a crafty ploy to keep Gabriel in order. As for myself, I'm delighted to have found this beautiful house here by Chelsea Bridge. It has a fine view, is bright and cheerful and has no foul smells to trouble the baby when it's born.'

    'I can't believe you're going to be a father,' said Ellie with a smile.

    Henry pulled Tippy towards him and patted her belly hidden now beneath the folds of a loose gown. 'Well, I am – and delighted with the idea. Always been envious of you and Fred. You have a happy married life, lovely children and a pleasant home. You two seem to fall into a bed of roses by doing very little. You were born lucky.'

    Fred smiled but in his guts, he felt a twist as if a hand had grabbed the entrails and was pulling them out.

    Ellie also smiled but she too had inner reservations. She looked over at Fred and caught the look that passed over his face for a moment. Bending her eyes back to her plate, she became thoughtful.

    Henry, however, was full of bonhomie and pleasure. This was Tippy's first proper dinner party and he was delighted with the arrangements she had made. The meal she had ordered to be served was simple but substantial and well cooked. A good sirloin of beef and all its trimmings was brought in after the fish and soup and Henry felt happy to be able to serve so good a meat at his table these days. Tippy had brought him luck and his pictures were selling well. No need for either of them to be so frugal any more though Tippy knew well how to manage on little. But the days of nothing but boiled mutton bones for soup was well over now.

    He stood at the head of the table with his carving knife and carved off thick, tender slices. The aroma filled the air in a savoury manner and his guests looked most appreciative. The room was filled with fresh flowers and the glass and few bits of silver sparkled. Tippy seemed to be taking to her role of housewife with gusto and the two servants they had engaged, a cook and housemaid, respected her orders without fuss. Henry considered he had made a very sensible and happy choice in Tippy. She, looking at her husband across the table, felt the same about him and reflected back his smiles and joy.

    'Tippy looks well, doesn't she?' continued Henry whose pride was bursting out in all directions. She did indeed look beautiful, her blue eyes bright and clear, her wanton golden locks pulled back now into a net at the nape of her neck as befitted a sensible matron-to-be.

    'Well, here's to us all. Long may we prosper!' said Henry raising his glass of wine and the others raised theirs too with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

    After the meal, Henry showed Fred and Ellie over the house, which he was furnishing with miscellaneous items picked up in antique dealers' rooms.

    'Mother gave us this cabinet. She said it belonged to my father,' he said, 'and that amazing old Chinese chest was something I picked up for a few shillings. Makes the place look interesting. Half the chaps I know are collecting blue china but Tippy doesn't care for it so I haven't bothered to look any out. Instead we like to collect silver when we can get it cheap. Tippy likes silver, don't you, pet?'

    'It looks so pretty and shiny when it's polished up,' she said. 'I used to hate to polish brass and silver when I worked in a big house as a youngster. Now I can ask the maid to do it.'

    'You can indeed,' said Henry fondly, 'you'll never have to polish anyone's silver again, dear heart. You're a lady now and I want you to enjoy it for all its worth.'

    'You promised me that I would have my own maid one day and now I have,' said Tippy contentedly. She looked around at the elegant, comfortable surroundings.

    'Sometimes, it feels like a dream,' she mused, 'that this home is all my own, that I have my dear Henry and soon will have my baby. Who would have thought little Tippy Jennings would one day live in such splendour?'

    'Does it make you so very happy, Tippy?' asked Fred.

    She looked at him for a long time, giving the question serious thought.

    'Mr Thorpe, it may sound like I just want all these comforts and material things,' she said at last, 'but I love my Henry, I really do. My happiness is being with him and I would have been content living in a hut. But all this is nice!' she added with a merry laugh, 'all this is very nice too!'

    She turned to Ellie. Tippy considered Fred's elegant lady to be miles above her in station. In vain, Ellie asked her to call her by her first name. Tippy could not bring herself to do so; it embarrassed her.

    'Mrs Thorpe,' she said, 'Henry and I would love you both to be godparents to our child. I hope you are agreeable?'

    'Why, Tippy, that would be a delight for us both,' said Ellie and Fred concurred with a nod and a smile. 'When is the little one due to arrive?'

    'In a month,' said Tippy, unabashed at the thought that her wedding ring was scarcely two months old. 'We have everything ready. Come and see how well we have designed the nursery. It's all fixed up by my brother, Jimmy. He's very good at woodwork and the like. If you ever need anyone to build you a nice piece of furniture, you ask our Jimmy.'