Love or Duty Read online

  Perhaps it wasn’t quite how she’d pictured her new life in America but she wouldn’t change a minute of it. It was as if her early life in Sussex, her time in the London theatre, had happened to someone else. Only when a letter arrived from her half-sister did she think of Louise, pitying her dull life and lost opportunities.

  But the letter she’d received today had her worried. She tossed her head and smoothed her hair, pushing the make-up girl away.

  ‘That’ll do,’ she said, standing up and deliberately erasing thoughts of her far away family. She must concentrate, remember her place on the set, her lines, the gestures to accompany her words. Nothing must interfere with her performance.

  It wasn’t until the following day that she retrieved Louise’s letter from her bag and read it properly. She’d only skimmed through it earlier, relieved that because Louise had written herself she must be fully recovered from the mysterious fever that had kept her bedridden for so many weeks. She hadn’t taken in the fact that her half-sister was really getting married – would probably already be a bride by the time the letter arrived. And to James Spencer of all people.

  What was she thinking of? Sarah knew that there’d been talk of an engagement. Her mother was all for it. But, knowing how her half-sister felt about Andrew Tate, she’d never dreamed that Louise would settle for second best.

  Filming over for the day, Sarah settled back on the velvet daybed in the luxury apartment furnished and paid for by Ralph Beauchamp and began to read her sister’s letter.

  I should be happy. James was so attentive when I was ill. He was here every day and Mother says he was devastated when they thought I might die. He brings me flowers and chocolate. And he swears on his life that he will do everything he can to make me happy. But I can’t really forgive him or Mother for arranging everything when I was still too ill to have any say in the matter.

  When I protested, Mother said it gave them something to hang on to while I was ill. By planning for the future James was able to convince himself that we actually had a future. But Sarah, I don’t even remember accepting his proposal.

  I must have done, mustn’t I? What reason could James have for tricking me into marriage? After all, it isn’t as if I have any money to speak of. He says he loves me and I must believe him.

  My dear sister, I can never tell anyone but you and I know you will respect my confidence. I don’t love him. I’ve never said I did. You know who my heart belongs to. But he has never indicated that he feels the same about me so why should I remain single, waiting and hoping? I want a home and a family of my own.

  Poor foolish Louise, thought Sarah, turning the page and ignoring the twinge of conscience as she remembered what she had done to achieve her own dream. She read on.

  Which brings me to another thing. James is going to move in to Steyne House so that I can still look after Mother. I had hoped we would have our own home. Still, the consolation is that with James around he will help to brighten up the gloom. He has the knack of making Mother smile and forget her imagined ills. That fact alone is enough to resign me to making the best of things.

  Dearest Sarah, how selfish you must think me, to write so much about my troubles. Not a word of congratulation for landing the starring role in your next film, of how proud we all are in Holton Regis of our local girl made good. We are eagerly anticipating the arrival of Guns at Midday at the Picturedrome and catching a glimpse of you. It hasn’t reached Holton yet. They closed all the places of entertainment at the outbreak of the war but soon realized that people need something to take their minds off the current situation. I won’t bore you with all the things we have to put up with now – the blackout and rationing etc. Just be assured we are all quite safe. As the posters say we are ‘keeping calm and carrying on’.

  Suffice to say Mother and I will be first in the queue at the Picturedrome when it arrives here.

  Sarah reached the end of the letter, then turned back to look at the date, realizing that it had taken so long to reach her that Louise was now Mrs Spencer. It wasn’t like her sister to be so open about her feelings and Sarah was sure there was more to it than she had revealed. Remembering James as she’d known him when they were still children, she felt sure that Louise was doing the wrong thing. He could have changed, of course. He was running the business now and everyone seemed to think he had grown up and accepted his responsibilities. Sarah wasn’t so sure. She just hoped she was wrong. Anyway, even if she’d had any hope of getting Louise to change her mind, it was too late now.

  The door opened and Ralph came in. She put the letter to one side and stood up, her satin housecoat falling open as she moved towards him. The reply to Sarah would have to wait.

  Louise’s wedding was not the happiest day of her life. Right until the last minute she’d been on the verge of backing out. But the fact that contact with James would be unavoidable in such a small town, never mind the family business connection, steeled her to go through with it. She couldn’t bear the thought of the scandal that would ensue, not to mention Dora’s hysterics and the inevitable recriminations.

  It was easier to go through the motions and tell herself that many people married for convenience. She was sure that some of the couples she knew had never really been in love. Respect and security were just as valid reasons to marry.

  There were no bridesmaids after all, much to Dora’s chagrin. But Louise was spared a fight over inviting the children from the hospital. Since the evacuation from Dunkirk and the subsequent fear of an imminent invasion, the children’s hospital had been closed. Those who were fit enough had gone home, while the more vulnerable, including young Alfie, had moved inland. Andrew had been able to requisition a small country house on the other side of the Downs near Midhurst.

  The move was taking place on her wedding day and Louise was sad that Alfie couldn’t be there. Andrew had sent a note saying that the boy was still not fully recovered from the illness which had struck many of his patients as well as Louise herself. Dora had been right. The infection had been brought in by a new patient.

  Louise hadn’t seen Andrew since his short visit after her illness, for which she was thankful. Dora had invited both him and his uncle to the wedding but, to her relief, he’d sent a cool little note of refusal. His wishes for her future happiness had cut her to the heart. Now she was certain he didn’t care for her except as a friend, otherwise he would surely sense her reluctance to marry James.

  The service at St Mark’s passed in a blur. Louise made her responses in a low voice and her hand shook as James placed the ring on her finger. When they turned to make their way down the aisle, her knees trembled and James gripped her arm firmly.

  At the hotel she could scarcely eat. Old Dr Tate, who had given her away in lieu of her father, sat beside her. He smiled reassuringly. ‘You were right to insist on a quiet do,’ he said. ‘You’re still not fully recovered.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I’ve had a word with young James – told him you’re still quite delicate.’

  Louise felt the blush rise up her neck to her cheeks. She knew what he meant. It was something she’d been trying not to think about.

  At last the reception was over and the few guests took their leave. Dr Tate drove Dora and the newlyweds back to the house so that Louise could get changed. Petrol rationing and restrictions on travel meant they couldn’t go far afield for a honeymoon and Louise would have preferred to stay home. But she found the idea of spending the first night of her marriage so close to her stepmother embarrassing and she’d agreed to a couple of days away.

  James said it was to be a surprise and Louise, although she didn’t really care where they went, was dismayed when she realized their destination. She had hoped that perhaps he was taking her to a small village with a quaint old inn.

  ‘Why Brighton?’ she asked.

  ‘I know you love the seaside, my dear,’ he replied, turning to smile at her. ‘There’s more to do here. I’ve booked a room facing the sea. You’ll love it.’

&n
bsp; We might as well have stayed in Holton, Louise thought. She didn’t care for Brighton, a bigger, brasher version of her home town. As they drove along the road parallel to the promenade, signs of war were visible. The beautiful Palace Pier, which had been extended only a few years before, now showed huge gaps where it had been partly demolished to deter landing craft. Concrete tank traps and coils of barbed wire littered the beach and there were notices forbidding access. Manned gun emplacements at intervals underlined the very real fear of the threat from across the Channel.

  Louise wasn’t interested in the brash entertainment the resort had to offer and could see no point in being at the seaside when you couldn’t walk along the beach or swim in the sea. Not wanting to disappoint James, though, she tried to hide her dismay.

  As the car drew up in front of the hotel he was grinning. ‘Not like dreary old Holton is it?’ he said, leaping out and standing with his hands on his hips. ‘I love this place.’

  The commissionaire hurried forward to take their bags and Louise slowly got out of the car. Her stomach churned with apprehension as she followed James into the foyer and her hand shook as she signed the register, faltering as she remembered that her name was no longer Charlton.

  In their room, she glanced around indifferently while James prowled around examining their bathroom, opening wardrobes and drawers. Suddenly weary, she sat on the window seat and closed her eyes against the sparkle of sun on sea.

  James gave a muttered exclamation and she opened her eyes to see him picking up the house telephone. She was about to say she would like tea when he spoke, loudly and angrily. ‘The bath hasn’t been cleaned properly. It’s not good enough.’

  ‘James, what’s the matter?’

  He waved a hand to silence her. ‘I don’t want excuses,’ he shouted into the phone. ‘Send someone up immediately.’ He slammed the receiver down. ‘Disgraceful. It never used to be like this.’

  ‘Have you stayed here before then?’

  James hesitated. ‘I just meant that standards in general are slipping.’

  ‘I don’t expect they can get the staff now. Everyone’s either been called up or volunteered for war work.’

  ‘It’s easy to blame the war. But—’

  A knock came at the door and a timid maid appeared carrying cleaning materials.

  ‘In there,’ James barked. ‘And make sure you do a good job this time.’ He followed her and stood by the door watching as she scrubbed at the bath.

  Louise gazed out the window, hot with embarrassment. She’d had no idea that James was so fastidious. She thought about Polly who had been willing if sometimes a bit slapdash. What would James have thought of her housekeeping skills? Thank goodness the poor girl no longer worked for them. She hoped he wouldn’t be too critical of her own standards. Cooking and running around after Dora, as well as her voluntary work, left little time to worry about the layers of dust in the seldom used rooms of Steyne House.

  With a pang she remembered that the hospital had closed and she no longer had a job. When she was fit again she’d have to find something else to do for the war effort until she was called up. She had avoided being drafted into the forces so far due to having a relative to care for and the fact that she was already working at the hospital. But there were rumours that married women would soon be required to work in factories, on the land or in the forces. Besides, if James was called up and had to go away she’d need something to fill her time.

  ‘That’ll do.’ James’s voice roused her from her thoughts and she stood up as the maid scuttled out of the room.

  ‘I think I’ll have a bath before dinner. I got so hot and sticky in the car.’ She took her wash bag out of her suitcase.

  ‘Aren’t you going to unpack? I thought you’d have done it by now.’

  ‘I want a bath and a change of clothes first. There’s plenty of time. We are on holiday after all,’ Louise protested.

  ‘All right. But I don’t like a mess. Hurry up then. You can do it while I’m in the bathroom.’

  As Louise lay in the scented water she wondered how many other men would have worried about unpacking or cleaning the bath on the first day of their honeymoon. Where was the romantic James who had wooed her with chocolate and flowers?

  She sighed and told herself he was probably as tired as she was. After all, he had worked hard while she was convalescing, supervising the removal of his belongings from the bachelor flat, rearranging the rooms at home, as well as going in to the office each day.

  They would have a leisurely meal in the dining room, perhaps a quiet stroll long the seafront, then back to the hotel. Her mind shied away from picturing the next scene. She wasn’t a naïve young girl. She knew what to expect and she tried to reassure herself that everything would be all right.

  A loud knock on the bathroom door startled her and she sat up, splashing water over the edge of the bath. She climbed out and wrapped herself in the towelling bathrobe that hung behind the door. ‘Just coming,’ she called.

  When she opened the door James pushed past her. ‘You took your time. And just look at the mess.’

  ‘Have your bath, James. I’ll clean up afterwards.’

  ‘I told you, I don’t like mess.’

  Louise’s lips tightened. ‘I said I’d do it afterwards. I’m going to get dressed now and unpack.’ She turned her back and he grabbed her arm, swinging her round to face him.

  She flinched at the look on his face and he quickly let go, giving a shamefaced smile, like a naughty schoolboy caught out in some mischief. ‘Sorry, darling. I’m a bit on edge. Tired, I expect.’

  Louise forced a smile. ‘Me too. Do you want to go down for dinner, or shall we order room service?’

  He pulled her towards him and kissed her cheek. ‘We’ll go down. I’ll feel better after freshening up.’

  He closed the bathroom door and Louise finished drying herself and put on a fresh blouse and skirt. She brushed her hair and, although she didn’t usually use much make-up, she decided a little rouge would improve her looks. She was still very pale after her illness and she wanted to look her best.

  James must have thought so. Before they went down to dinner he looked her up and down, smiling. ‘My lovely bride,’ he said, tucking her hand into his arm.

  During dinner he seemed to have recovered his usual happy-go-lucky manner, laughing and teasing her, paying compliments and raising his glass to toast his ‘lovely bride’. As they ate dessert he took her hand, caressing each finger in turn. Too soon, the meal came to an end, but as they stood up to leave the dining room, James said, ‘That bloke over there’s been giving you the eye all evening. I’ve a good mind to go over and give him a piece of my mind.’

  Louise clutched his arm. ‘Oh please don’t. I’m sure he doesn’t mean any harm.’

  ‘Maybe.’ James pursed his lips and his hand came up to wipe some of the rouge off her cheek. ‘Perhaps he wouldn’t have noticed you if you hadn’t plastered your face with this stuff.’

  Louise was shocked and for a moment she wasn’t sure how to respond. She gave a little sob. ‘I made myself up for you, James. I wanted to look nice for you.’ She must have said the right thing. His hand fell to his side and he leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

  ‘That’s all right then,’ he said.

  ‘Shall we go up?’ Louise’s voice was steady although she was trembling inside.

  ‘You go, darling,’ he said. ‘I’ll just have a nightcap and follow you later.’

  She smiled and turned away, pleased at the respite. His swift changes of mood had unnerved her. He’d never behaved like this before. Was it just tiredness or nerves? Was he as anxious as she was about the coming night?

  She undressed slowly and removed her make-up, listening for James’s footsteps. After half an hour she got into bed, eyes straining towards the door. Eventually, tiredness overwhelmed her and she slept.

  The room was in darkness when she woke with a start, feeling a weight on her body, hands fumbli
ng at her nightdress. She started to struggle until, fully awake, she realized it was James – her husband.

  ‘James, stop, please …’ she said.

  ‘You should have waited for me. It’s our wedding night. How could you fall asleep?’

  ‘But Dr Tate said….’ Louise had thought James would give her more time. She had never dreamt that he would leap on her like an animal while she slept.

  ‘Sod that old buffer. What does he know? You’re my wife so….’ He grabbed at her breast, twisting her nipple.

  Louise gasped and bit her lip.

  ‘There, you see, I knew you liked it really.’

  Louise did not like it; she endured it. It was nothing like she’d imagined. Where was the romance, the love? At last he was satisfied and he rolled away, falling into a deep sleep almost immediately. She didn’t sleep at all, staring into the darkness and cursing her foolishness for allowing herself to be talked into a marriage without love. She’d convinced herself that liking and respect were enough. Too late she realized that, after his behaviour tonight as well as earlier in the dining room, she did not even like James, much less respect him.

  Chapter Seventeen

  1941

  Louise leaned on the sink while she waited for the kettle to boil. She was so tired but she dared not go to bed yet. Dora was already asleep and James was still out. She’d been married for almost a year and she’d never been so unhappy. But she only had herself to blame and she must make the best of it. If only there was someone she could talk things over with. Even if she felt able to confide in Dora, her stepmother would tell her she was being silly. But then, James only ever showed his charming side to her, sitting on the side of the bed, holding her hand and feeding her chocolate.