The Lie (19 page)

‘Well, you can arrange flowers for the church, and for the house too if Amelia doesn't mind,' Simon said. He looked at her and realized she was genuinely upset. He moved towards her, taking her into his arms. ‘I know this is all a bit much for you at the moment, darling, but you'll get used to it. Once we have children you'll find plenty to do – and there's always charity work. I'm sure my father or Amelia would be glad to have you on their own boards or help you find something that interests you.'

Emily melted a little in his arms. He could always do that to her with a smile or a kiss, and she did love him. ‘But we shall have some time on our own, shan't we?'

‘Yes, of course. I shall keep my flat in town, and we'll go up for a few days now and then. You can visit the theatre or museums or simply shop if you would rather, Emily. That reminds me, Father wanted you to know that he has arranged an allowance for you. It will be paid into a bank he uses in your name and you can do what you please with it – he's always generous with money so you'll be able to shop as much as you like.'

‘I don't need money. I have my pay from the fire service.'

‘Ah, yes, I was coming to that,' Simon said, looking at her oddly. ‘I think you should give notice, Emily. It is too dangerous for you in Liverpool. I would much rather you were here.'

‘You are in danger every day,' she reminded him. ‘Why should it be any different for me?'

‘Don't be stubborn, darling.' Simon looked at her set face. ‘Well, I suppose there is no real hurry just yet – but think about it, for me? I worry about you.'

‘I worry about you. Especially when you don't ring me.'

‘I tried telephoning. I told you.'

‘I asked everyone and no one had taken a message.' Emily's tone and eyes were more accusing than she realized.

‘Don't be ridiculous! That Irish girl was there once, and the last time no one answered. There just wasn't time to keep on phoning you. If you had been here I should have been sure of you at least getting my messages.'

Emily bit her lip. It wasn't beyond the bounds of possibility that Maura had forgotten to give her a message. She had been in a bit of a state for weeks, and even though she seemed better now, she could have forgotten.

Sighing, she realized that she had been a bit unfair to Simon. She had known that they would live at the house one day, vaguely at the back of her mind. It was just that the family seemed determined to take her over. They were all very kind and nice, but she felt that since her marriage she had become a part of the property rather than a person in her own right. She knew they would like her to give up her job and come to live here, become a part of the family firm. She'd seen the way Amelia's eyes went over her, as if hoping for a sign that she was already with child, and that had rattled and embarrassed her. Who did they think she was – a woman with hopes and dreams of her own or just someone to produce an heir for the title?

She wanted Simon's children one day, but not yet if she were honest. And she wasn't going to give up her job with the fire crews without a fight.

‘Maura must have forgotten,' she said, and gave Simon an apologetic look as she went to put her arms around him. ‘It's just that I kept wondering why you hadn't rung me – and if you were all right.'

‘Yes, well, it was unfortunate,' Simon said, and kissed her nose. ‘Tell you what, we'll leave in the morning, go up to my flat in town and enjoy ourselves. We can do some shopping if there's anything decent to buy, have a bit of fun – like we did that night?' His eyes teased her and Emily smiled, feeling better. Her wedding night had been fun, but so far this visit had been awkward. Sometimes she thought Simon was two different people – the man she'd fallen for and a stranger she didn't know. ‘You know I adore you, darling. I'm a bit on edge myself. It's been pretty rough these last weeks.'

‘Yes, I know,' she said, immediately contrite, because she knew how hard it must be never knowing if this was the day your plane would crash in flames, taking you with it. ‘I'm sorry I threw a tantrum. I've been working hard myself – but I do love you, Simon.'

‘Well, so I should hope,' he said, and laughed. ‘I might be a bit miffed if I thought you were tired of me already.'

‘No, of course I'm not,' she said, and laughed as he swept her off her feet and sat her on the edge of the bed. ‘What are you doing?'

‘Something I fancy,' he said, and pushed her skirt up over her thighs. ‘I've been thinking about this for weeks  . . .'

Emily gasped as he lowered his head, his tongue flicking up the soft inner flesh of her thigh. ‘Simon  . . . don't you think we ought to go down? Dinner will be ready  . . .'

‘Be damned to dinner, my appetite is for something else.'

The wicked light in his eyes made her laugh. She arched back as she felt the first flicker of pleasure as he invaded her with his tongue, moaning softly as the sweet torture went on and on for some minutes. And then she was lying beneath him on the covers, and he was thrusting into her eagerly, hastily. Almost too soon he withdrew and went into the bathroom, leaving her still vaguely unsatisfied. He had given her pleasure, yes, but in the end he had seemed as if he wanted it over with, as if he had been merely doing his duty.

Emily shook her head, determined not to let this vague dissatisfaction spoil things between them. Simon loved her, he wanted her, worried about her being in Liverpool – so why should she feel that this was all wrong? It was silly but she had the feeling that Simon was merely playing a game, that their love-making gave him little or no pleasure. He had done what he had simply to placate her, keep her in a good mood.

Oh, she was just being silly! Simon had loved her from the start. He was always saying it, and he'd bought her lovely gifts – but he didn't look at her the way Terry did  . . .

Emily felt guilt as she recalled the hungry look in Terry's eyes, the real pain she had seen there when she'd told him she was married. She mustn't think about that, and she mustn't let doubts creep into her mind. Simon made love to her often. Maybe it was her imagination that he seemed to be going through the motions rather than driven by real desire? Perhaps he was the kind of man who couldn't show his feelings at such times?

And yet he was good with words, and when they laughed together they had fun. It was just that she couldn't get it out of her head that he was making love to her because it was expected. Just as she was expected to give him an heir to the estate.

Eight

E
mily returned to work with mixed feelings at the end of her leave. A part of her was sorry to be parting from Simon, because the second half of their holiday had been much nicer. Simon had been different in London, more relaxed, and they'd gone out to the theatre and restaurants, and drunk a lot of champagne, which Simon always seemed able to find; perhaps because he was well known at the places they visited. She had decided that it was just being with his family that made him seem different, and this time he took her back to Liverpool on the train, taking a lingering farewell of her.

‘I'm not sure if I can get leave at Christmas or New Year,' he told her. ‘But I'll let you know as soon as I can.'

‘If you can't I shall go home to Frances,' Emily said. ‘I know I've got two days for New Year so do your best, but send me a postcard or something this time, Simon. Please?'

‘Yes, of course, I'm sorry,' he said, and touched her cheek. ‘I don't mean to be careless or hurt you, darling. I want to make you happy, but I'm an odd creature, you ask my family. I have always had moods and things are so bloody at the moment.'

‘Yes, of course. I understand.' Emily smiled and kissed him. ‘I love you, Simon. I'll try to be patient this time.'

‘Things have to get better soon,' Simon said, and for a moment the grin she loved was in place. ‘You go now, Emily. I have to catch my train in a few minutes, and you're all right now, aren't you?'

‘Yes, of course.' She gave him a big hug and walked away. When she glanced back he was still watching her, but he was no longer smiling.

Connor loved having tea with Peter's family. It wasn't that they had much food – nothing special at any rate, just bread and marge; the government was becoming stricter about farm produce and you couldn't keep much of what you produced these days. However, there was usually a fresh egg from the hens in the yard, a few jam tarts and a slice for each of them of the big seed cake Alice had baked the previous evening. The reason he liked being with them was that they were such a happy family, all talking and laughing as they ate and drank their tea, sometimes with their mouths full.

Frances invariably complained if he spoke with his mouth full. It wasn't much fun living with her these days. She only had one thing in her head, and that was the baby. She was always knitting things, grumbling at her brother if he made a mess in the house, and telling him to be quiet. He missed Emily desperately, and Daniel. He wished that this rotten war was over and his brother would come home. He was longing for him and Alice to get married, because Dan had said Connor could live with them once he'd fixed himself up with a house.

‘You'd better get home, love,' Alice said to him when she had finished clearing the table, the washing up neatly done and put away. ‘It's dark out and Frances will worry. Do you want me to walk home with you?'

‘No, I'm all right thanks.' Connor smiled at her. He really liked Alice and he was glad she was going to marry his brother. ‘I'll run all the way – don't worry, the gremlins won't get me.'

Alice laughed and he called goodbye to his friend and Mrs Robinson and then went out sharpish. He had to force himself to leave the warmth and comfort of their big family kitchen, where he felt so at home. The trouble was, he didn't have a home any longer. The house belonged to Frances and Marcus now, and she was always making changes. It felt all wrong, as if his world kept shifting.

He wished his father were still alive. He hardly remembered his mother at all, but he hadn't noticed so much while his father was around, now he felt lost and alone, the only time he was really happy was when he was at Peter's house.

He kicked at a bottle lying discarded on the path, sending it into the gutter, and then picked up stones and threw them at it, trying to break the glass. Frances would be playing the gramophone while she knitted baby coats. She would tell him to kiss her and then send him to bed. He didn't really want to go home, but it was cold out and there was nowhere else he could go at this time of night. He might ask Henry if he could stop there for a while when school broke up.

He saw the girl get off the bus, and hesitate as she walked towards him. She was quite a pretty girl with dark hair, and when she spoke she had a funny accent, a bit like the tinkers who had come with the fair one summer, but softer and nicer. She smiled at him.

‘Hello,' she said. ‘Do you live in this village?'

‘Yeah – just up the road, why?'

‘I wondered if you could tell me where Daniel Searles lives?'

‘Why do you want to know?' His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

‘I have something to tell him,' the girl said. ‘Is he at home?'

‘Nah, he's working down south somewhere,' Connor said. ‘I could tell him when I see him, if you like?'

‘Is he still at that base near Southampton?'

‘Yeah, I reckon.' Connor gave her a hard look. How did she know that? He made up his mind that he didn't like her, even though she was being friendly. ‘He might have been moved up to Scotland, though. I heard someone say he was going overseas soon.'

‘Oh.' The girl nodded, as if that settled something in her mind. ‘You're sure he isn't here?'

‘That's his house up there.' Connor pointed at his home. ‘Go and ask if you don't believe me. I'm his brother so I should know.'

‘You are Daniel's brother?'

‘Yeah.' Connor gave her a defiant look. ‘So what?'

‘Give him this then,' she said, and took a small packet from her pocket. ‘And if you see him tell him the lady who gave it to you is getting married at Christmas – will you do that for me? My name is Maura. You will tell him you saw me?'

‘Yeah, if you like.' Connor shoved the packet into his pocket. ‘The bus is leaving any minute if you want to catch it, miss. There won't be another one tonight and there's nowhere to stay here.'

‘Thank you.' She turned and ran towards it, scrambling on board and waving to him from the window as the bus moved off.

Connor shuffled his feet. He'd told her a lot of lies, but it didn't matter. Something about her had made him wary, and he had felt she might cause trouble for Daniel.

He fingered the packet in his pocket. It felt soft and he was curious about what it contained. Opening it, he saw that it was one of Daniel's handkerchiefs; it had his initials in the corner and there were others like it in the chest of drawers in his brother's bedroom.

Why had the girl come especially to bring the handkerchief? It seemed a waste of time to Connor. She could have sent it through the post, couldn't she? He shoved it back in his pocket, deciding he would put it with the others in Dan's chest and say nothing to him about the girl at all.

Emily was surprised when Maura told her she was getting married at Christmas. She had just returned from a short leave to visit family, and she had dropped her bombshell when they were alone.

‘But  . . .' Emily looked at her helplessly. ‘I've seen you with someone – Steve Jacobs I think his name is – but you've only known him a short time, haven't you?'

‘Long enough,' Maura said. ‘Anyway, I don't have a lot of choice. I'm having a baby and I want to get married. My father would have a fit if I didn't.'