The Fall and Rise of Lucy Charlton (36 page)

‘Not unless I was financially destitute,’ Gemma said. ‘Would you still marry Edgar if he wasn’t prosperous and well respected and going to let you join the firm?’

‘I’ve asked myself that and the answer is that I don’t know, the one is so near to the other. He has a beautiful detached house with big gardens and help to do everything and he would make Father’s business right even if he dies—’

‘When he dies,’ her sister corrected her.

Lucy could only think about the inevitability of her father’s death alongside the idea that when she married Edgar the Newcastle business would go on.

‘I’ll be able to ensure that none of us needs ever worry about money again and whatever I went through with Guy, you went through so much more.’

‘I got the twins out of it.’

‘They don’t look anything like him,’ Lucy said. It made them both smile.

‘You have to tell him about Guy,’ Gemma said.

‘Why?’

‘Because he will know.’

‘How?’

Gemma’s face was like raspberries.

‘Because it’s different after the first time. You don’t bleed, you react differently. It just is.’

‘Maybe he doesn’t know. If he doesn’t have much experience—’

‘Men of his class always know these things. They’ve had other women.’

‘I can’t believe Edgar has.’

‘You should believe it because if he hasn’t and you have that’s even worse,’ her sister said. ‘He will have had. Men always do.’

Lucy stared at her.

‘He isn’t like that,’ she said.

Gemma looked hard at her.

‘You are so innocent, in spite of Guy being awful to you. They are middle-class men, they have money, they can afford prostitutes.’

‘He hasn’t!’ Lucy declared, ready to burst into tears.

‘What makes you think such a thing?’ her sister said tiredly.

Lucy shook her head.

‘He’s too nice, too respectable.’

Gemma laughed.

‘Men aren’t governed by such things. All they care for is their own bodily satisfaction and if you don’t tell him he will be disgusted with you when he finds out that you aren’t a virgin.’

‘But that’s not right, not fair,’ she said.

‘It’s right and fair for them,’ Gemma said. ‘But maybe … maybe you could pretend to be a virgin. You could simulate the first time. There must be a way.’

‘How on earth could I do such a thing, Gemma? I love him.’

‘I loved Guy and look what happened to us. What woman can trust her feelings? We know so little, we try to save ourselves for them with what consequences – why should any woman?’

‘I can’t even imagine being in the same bedroom as him,’ Lucy said softly, honest at last.

‘It will be all right. Just tell him,’ Gemma said.

*

Lucy tried to choose her time to tell Edgar about Guy, but it didn’t happen. She excused herself over and over, that she was busy, that he was in Durham, that it was late, that it was early, that he was at lunch. Over the next few weeks she became exhausted, trying to get right something which she felt would never be. She could not envisage a future without the man who had helped her so much.

He was always there in the background as a saviour. He would make her a solicitor and they would have a home such as few people had. They would have children, and things would go on and on through the years, fires in the winter, the garden full of daffodils and tulips and crocuses white
and purple and yellow in the spring, children tripping and laughing down the paths towards the grassy places and summers where he might suggest they went to the seaside for two weeks. They would stay in a hotel which looked out at the waves and build sandcastles, and when the children were asleep they would sit on the balcony and think how good the sunshine was.

Then there would be autumn with the apple and plum trees giving up their fruit for pies and crumbles. In the winter she could see a huge tree in the hall that would greet visitors when they arrived, and she and Edgar would have parties, for themselves and their friends and the children’s friends. She would carry on her father’s practice in Newcastle and she would be able to help Gemma and the children and her mother.

She woke up happy in the mornings whether she was at the office in Newcastle or was going to Durham, though Edgar mostly managed Durham and she mostly managed Newcastle. She could have skipped to work, sung. She could see the strain go from her mother’s face and from Gemma’s.

Joe found Lucy at her father’s office. She was so busy that she didn’t look up and when she did she found herself bridling.

‘What do you want?’ she said. ‘I’m very busy – I don’t have time for you.’

‘I thought you wanted me to give you away.’

‘Strangely enough, Joe, I changed my mind after you were so awful to me about my marriage. I’m not even going to send you an invitation.’ She turned her back to him and pretended she needed something out of the filing cabinet.

‘You weren’t very nice to me either.’

‘I didn’t feel like being very nice to me after you told me that I wasn’t good enough for Edgar.’

‘I didn’t do anything of the kind.’

‘You said, I remember it distinctly, that I would make his life hell. You were very rude.’

‘You hit me.’

‘I wish I had done it twice.’

Lucy threw down the file she had extracted from the cabinet. She had no idea what it was.

‘I don’t know how you dare come here at all, wanting something.’

‘I don’t want anything.’

‘You are a liar, Joe Hardy, you only ever come to me when you need my help. It’s not enough that you’ve insulted me when all I wanted you to do was support me on my wedding day because my father is confined to a wheelchair and has lost his mind. You couldn’t even do that for me.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘No, you aren’t,’ Lucy said. She opened the file and pretended to read it. ‘Please just go back to Durham. I don’t need giving away. I certainly don’t need you there doing it. It’s a horrid idea anyway, I’m not a parcel. I’m trying to do the right thing here and you are not helping.’

‘I was just shocked, that’s all. It didn’t occur to me that you would ever marry Edgar.’

‘Why not?’

‘Well, because …’ Joe stopped. ‘I just didn’t think you would.’

‘That’s pathetic, Joe.’

‘I did say that I could help you financially—’

‘You’re insulting me again. I’m sorry I was nasty to you about Angela. I know how much she means to you.’

‘I’ve got this man coming up from London to see the car that Mr Palmer and I have built. I need to make a good impression.’

She said nothing. She didn’t even look up.

‘He wants to stay with me.’

Lucy wasn’t seeing the page at all any more. She had a vision of the man staying at the tower house with the Misses Slaters and Frederick and the cats, and she started to laugh.
She couldn’t help it. ‘You are so stupid,’ she said. ‘You could have sent him to the County.’

‘I tried to.’

‘Oh dear.’

‘I need a woman—’

‘There are lots on the streets.’

‘So that I can take him out to dinner.’

‘Why don’t you ask Emily? She’s so respectable and speaks a bit like you do.’

‘Please.’

‘No.’

‘I’ll give you away.’

‘You will not. You can take him out to dinner by yourself.’

‘He’ll think I don’t have anybody.’

‘You haven’t.’

‘Lucy—’

‘I am not going to play games to suit you,’ she said.

‘It could be a very lucrative game if I win. I would help your business. You could deal with all the legal stuff and it would be huge, if I get that far. There is a very small chance that I will. Isn’t it worth a dinner? You could stay at the County.’

‘I’m not staying at the County on my own. People will think I’m a prostitute.’

‘I don’t think many of them stay there.’

‘I suppose you would know.’

‘Mrs Formby would put you up for the night. The children would love it.’

‘And how exactly am I meant to tell Edgar that I’m having dinner with you?’

‘It’s business. Edgar is a very shrewd businessman. He’s not going to mind when you explain it to him.’

*

Lucy was inclined to tell Joe that he could explain to Edgar himself, but she didn’t. She thought it was enough that Edgar didn’t like Joe and he would never agree to it.

‘Did you say you would?’ Edgar said when she talked to him about it.

‘Certainly not.’

‘There’s a lot of talk you know, about this motor which Joe has built. If he pulls it off and has a factory here it may create a lot of jobs, and it would make him financially. I have no objection to being in on the ground floor.’

‘What if it turns out to be nothing?’

Edgar shrugged.

‘Then it doesn’t matter – but if he has got something then Joe has the manner and the wit to bring it off, if you see what I mean. There’s a lot of competition in the motor industry and it’s building right now. It’s going to hit a new level where many people can afford a car, it just needs somebody to build it, and Joe could be that man.’

‘It’s just another car.’

‘Well, it’s new in England and Christopher Eve is coming up from London especially to see it, I would say it has a fair chance. I don’t know much about these things but if Joe has designed something clever then his timing is exactly right. More and more people want motor cars and they need them cheap and well-built, and there isn’t one so far. If this works and Joe puts business our way it could be very good for us. If it doesn’t work then what have we lost?’

‘You know this man, Eve?’

‘I know of him. He is one of the leading lights in the industry so I wouldn’t write him off. Besides, it would be nice for you to visit the Misses Slaters and stay with Mrs Formby. You’re always saying you don’t see enough of them. It’s only a couple of hours and then you can go.’

‘I shall need a new dress and you will have to pay for it.’

‘You can have half a dozen new dresses and everything to match,’ Edgar said.

It was typical, Lucy thought, of a man to change his tune when it suited his pocket. She would have liked Edgar to be just a little jealous. Perhaps Christopher Eve was gorgeous. He probably wasn’t of course, he was probably middle-aged, fat and boring and very short, with terrible dress sense and no manners.

Worse still he would be staying at the tower house; he’d be covered in cat hair and offered sandwiches. Mischievously, Lucy was pleased about this.

*

Joe worried what Mr Eve would think of their shabby premises but when he opened the doors wide the sunshine poured in upon their creation. In Joe’s mind he had made it so much less than it was now in reality. He looked at the little black car covered in sunlight and was proud, yet also worried.

He watched Christopher Eve make his way slowly around the outside. Then he opened the driver’s door and looked inside, and the passenger side door and looked again. He opened the boot and after it the bonnet, and he spent what seemed like an eternity eyeing the engine and all the different bits and pieces. Then he put down the bonnet and
walked around the car again. Joe thought he would die if Mr Eve didn’t say something soon. His visitor straightened up.

‘Why,’ Mr Eve said, with the enthusiasm that only a devotee could have mustered, ‘it’s perfect, Mr Hardy.’

Joe would have disclaimed, but he checked himself. Instead he stood and tried not to let his face change while his mind soared.

‘Let’s take it for a spin, eh?’ Mr Eve said.

*

Joe had wanted to show off and take Mr Eve somewhere special for lunch, but he didn’t. Mrs Palmer was nervous to have such a man in her house, but since Mr Palmer had not volunteered even to meet the visitor Joe had said they would go there for lunch. He wasn’t certain it was the best idea but he thought Mr Palmer would be a lot happier meeting Mr Eve under his own roof.

My God, Mrs Palmer had cleaned. She had clearly never heard of the word ‘lunch’. Dinner was what you had at midday and Mr Eve was treated to a proper beef dinner with Yorkshire puddings first, covered in white pepper. She had made gooseberry crumble and custard and there was plenty of tea for afterwards.

Mr Eve, Joe suspected, came from a fine New England family, but within half an hour he looked like a man who had spent all his life in a backstreet house such as this one. He sat there smoking and drinking tea and chatting, smiling beguilingly at his audience. He had, Joe thought, perfect manners.

Mr Palmer took to Christopher Eve from the start. Joe was so relieved. They had of course their obsession in common and they talked and talked about the industry right from the beginning. Mr Palmer relaxed and Joe was soon glad he had decided to do this. He followed Mrs Palmer into the pantry for a second when she was clearing the plates and thanked her softly for all she had done and told her it could not have been better.

That afternoon they took him to Sunderland, to see how fine the port was, how good the rail links, to assess the cost of setting up a factory there. There was plenty of space, and hundreds of men out of work, many skilled, dozens more who could be taught.

They stayed there, walking around prospective sites and driving all about the area. On the way back they talked about the costs, the size of site they would need, the number of men they must employ from the beginning. When they returned to Durham they were exhausted.

Mr Palmer went home a happy man and Joe could see by then that Mr Eve had had enough business talk. It was time to take Mr Eve home to the tower house and introduce him to the Misses Slaters. Mr Eve took to Frederick instantly, rubbing the dog’s ears so that Frederick, ecstatic, leaned up against his knees. Mr Eve cuddled the cats, and they let him. By the time Lucy arrived in the early evening everybody was ready to go out and party.

*

Joe had said they could meet at the County if she preferred, but Lucy wasn’t going to stand around there alone so she duly turned up at the tower house just before six. She had
thought Joe might have farmed out Frederick or banned the cats but everything was just the same. When she walked in and called out she heard laughter from the sitting room and an unmistakably American voice. She had not counted on Mr Eve being a Yankee.