Love or Duty Read online

  The Reverend Ayling called at least once a week and Louise was always pleased to see him if only because he kept Dora occupied for an hour or two, allowing her time to get on with her chores.

  She smiled a welcome as she opened the door, only to feel the blood drain from her face when she saw who was standing there. She grasped the door jamb, unable to speak.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean shock you,’ said Andrew. ‘I hope it’s not inconvenient. I’ve brought you a surprise.’

  ‘I thought you were the vicar,’ Louise said.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Andrew ran a finger round his neck. ‘No dog collar, I’m afraid. And no stethoscope to prove I’m a doctor.’ He laughed. ‘Don’t you want to see the surprise?’

  Louise nodded.

  Andrew went to the front gate and beckoned. ‘Come out, lad.’

  From behind the hedge, a boy hobbled towards her on crutches.

  ‘Alfie!’ she screamed, rushing forward and embracing him.

  As he struggled to free himself she laughed, tears streaming down her face. ‘Is it really you? How you’ve grown. And you’re walking.’

  As she ushered her guests into the drawing room Dora’s bell rang and she called out. ‘Send him up, Louise. He’s come to see me, not you.’

  Louise laughed. ‘She’s expecting Mr Ayling.’

  ‘I’ll go up and say hello – give you time to chat to young Alfie.’ Andrew bounded up the stairs and as Louise watched him go, her heartbeat returned to normal. It was kind of him to bring Alfie to see her but it seemed he didn’t want to spend time with her himself.

  Alfie discarded his crutches and sat down. Louise sat opposite him. ‘I can’t believe the change in you. Country air seems to suit you. Tell me how this came about.’

  ‘It’s all down to the doc. He got one of his doctor mates to take a look at me legs. They put these iron things on to straighten them out. And I’ve been doing these exercises. That Nurse Faversham – she makes sure I keep them up. And the doc’s always ringing her up to see how I’m doing. If it wasn’t for them two I’d still be in the chair.’

  Louise’s heart sank at the mention of the nurse who’d looked after her during her illness. She knew the young woman had been smitten with Andrew. Did he return the feeling? She bit her lip. What business was it of hers? She was a married woman – she shouldn’t be having such thoughts.

  She tried to concentrate on her young visitor. ‘I’m so pleased for you, Alfie. I expect you’ll be going home soon then.’

  A shadow passed across the boy’s face. ‘Ain’t got no home now, miss.’ He punched the arm of the chair. ‘Bleedin’ Germans.’

  ‘Your house was bombed? What about…?’

  ‘Me mum and me gran – both copped it. Gran didn’t like going down the shelter, see.’

  His shoulders tensed as he fought back tears. Louise wanted to put her arms round him, but she was sure he’d push her away. She stood up. ‘I must put the dinner in the oven. Mr Spencer will be home soon.’

  In the kitchen she too found herself fighting back tears. Poor little Alfie, she thought. It certainly put her own problems into perspective. When she’d finished preparing the toad-in-the-hole and put it into the oven, she poured a glass of milk and put a couple of biscuits on a plate. She glanced at the clock – plenty of time to do the potatoes before James came home.

  Back in the drawing room, Alfie had composed himself and he grinned up at her when she handed him the biscuits. ‘Doc says I’m doing well, but it’ll be a while before I can chuck those away,’ he said, nodding towards the crutches propped against the piano. He took a bite of biscuit and a swig of milk.

  ‘It was very nice of Dr Tate to bring you. Do you like it up at Midhurst?’

  ‘Not bad. It’s a great big house – better than the ’ospital here. But I miss our walks along the seafront. It’s so quiet in the country.’

  ‘I wish I could have come to visit but I’m so busy now with looking after Mother. Will you stay at the hospital?’

  ‘Dunno. Can’t go back to London can I? Doc says I can stay there a bit longer but I’ll have to go to a foster home later.’ He smiled up at her. ‘Wish I could stay here, miss.’

  Why not? Louise thought. There was plenty of room at Steyne House and, now that he could get around on his own, he wouldn’t need nursing. He could go to the school round the corner. Was that why Andrew had brought him here? She was about to agree when a cold thought came into her head. What would James say?

  She hesitated. ‘I’ll have to think about it, Alfie, talk it over with my husband.’

  Disappointment clouded his face. ‘You mean you don’t want me,’ he said, his voice flat.

  ‘It’s not up to me. My husband would have to agree, and there’s my stepmother. She’s not well you know.’ Louise couldn’t bear the look on his face and she excused herself to go and check on the dinner again.

  Left on his own, Alfie pulled himself out of the chair. No point in staying. The doc had got it all wrong. He might have known she wouldn’t want him. He’d be sent to some children’s home until his dad got back from Africa. That’s if he got home at all. Bloody war. He brushed the tears from his eyes.

  He hadn’t realized until now how much he’d banked on being able to stay here with Miss. He liked Nurse Faversham but he didn’t like the way she went all moony over the doc. She was bossy too and he couldn’t have a laugh with her like he did with Miss Charlton. Suppose he should call her Mrs Spencer now. He felt a spurt of anger. What did she want to go and get married for when she could have had the doc? He was a good bloke.

  Alfie stumbled across the room and reached for his crutches. He picked up the framed photo on top of the piano – an older bloke with two girls. It had been taken on the prom near the bandstand. Miss was laughing, brushing her hair out of her face. The other one must be her sister – the one they said was a film star.

  As he put the picture back, his hand brushed the piano keys. They were very dusty. He wondered if Miss ever played. He picked out a few notes, wishing he knew how to play. If he lived here, perhaps she’d teach him.

  Daft idea, he thought, crashing his hands down on the keys. The noise masked the sound of the door opening and he flinched as a hand grasped the back of his collar.

  ‘What the hell are you doing in my house?’ a voice roared. ‘How did you get in? Trying to steal something are you?’

  Alfie’s legs began to shake and he would have fallen but for the hand holding him upright. ‘No, sir. I’m Alfie. Miss let me in. I’m waiting for the doc,’ he stuttered.

  The man shook him until his teeth rattled. ‘You must be that brat from the hospital. Thought you’d gone for good,’ he said.

  ‘The doc’s trying to find me a foster home,’ Alfie said. His heart sank. Any hope that he’d be able to stay here fled. Not that he’d want to anyway if this was Miss’s husband. He reminded him of their next door neighbour in Stepney – the bloke who’d knocked all his wife’s teeth out one night after a session at the pub.

  ‘Good luck to him then,’ Mr Spencer said. ‘He’ll have a job.’ He grabbed Alfie’s crutches and thrust them at him. ‘Who’d want to take in a cripple?’

  Louise appeared in the doorway. ‘What’s going on? James, I didn’t hear you come in.’

  ‘I caught this young lad bashing around on the piano. I thought we had a burglar.’ He gave a false laugh.

  ‘This is Alfie. I used to look after him when I worked at the hospital. He’s waiting for Dr Tate.’

  Alfie looked from one to the other, glancing at the door as he heard the doc coming down the stairs. He saw the look on Miss’s face, the effort it was for her to smile and say, ‘I believe you know my husband.’

  The two men shook hands and exchanged polite greetings but Alfie could tell they didn’t like each other. He was glad when the doc touched him on the shoulder and said, ‘I think we’d better be off if we want to get back in time for supper.’

  When Mi
ss kissed him goodbye, Alfie blushed and rubbed at his cheek. But as he hobbled down the front path towards the doc’s car he was fighting tears once more. Who knew if he’d ever see her again?

  Louise watched Andrew helping Alfie into the car, giving a little wave and forcing a smile as the boy looked round and grinned at her. She knew she might never see him again. She’d heard James’s words as she came into the room and knew that he’d never allow Alfie to stay with them.

  As the boy started his slow walk towards the front gate, Andrew had turned to them and tentatively raised the question. James, all charm again, had explained that Louise couldn’t possibly look after a child while looking after Dora.

  ‘You’ve seen for yourself how my mother-in-law is,’ he’d said.

  Andrew nodded agreement. ‘I’m sorry to say Mrs Charlton does seem to have gone downhill since I last saw her. Does she keep to her room all the time?’

  ‘Yes. My wife is exhausted with running around after her.’ James put his arm round Louise and squeezed her to him. ‘I know you’d love to have the lad here, darling, but I really wouldn’t be happy for you to take on anything else.’

  ‘Don’t worry. Some of the evacuees have gone home – against all advice of course,’ Andrew said. ‘I’m sure I’ll find a place for him. I just thought it would be nice for the boy to be with someone he knows.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Andrew. I hope you understand,’ Louise said.

  Andrew picked up his hat from the hallstand and shook hands with them both. ‘I’ll ask Uncle George to call in and see Mrs Charlton. I can’t see anything physically wrong but perhaps he can suggest something. She really shouldn’t be spending so long in bed. I’m a great believer in exercise.’

  James muttered something and Louise thanked him.

  When they’d gone, Louise attempted to go into the kitchen. ‘I must dish up or the food will spoil,’ she said. ‘The table’s already laid. Why don’t you pour yourself a drink and sit down?’

  ‘Never mind the drink. I want an explanation.’ James gripped her arm and thrust his face close to hers. ‘What do you think you’re up to – entertaining men while I’m at work?’

  ‘I don’t understand. Dr Tate was visiting Mother, not me.’

  ‘Don’t give me that. You were upstairs with him. And you left that brat to poke around down here. He could have filled his pockets while you were otherwise engaged.’

  Louise bit back the retort that rose to her lips. Telling James he was being silly would enrage him further. ‘I was in the kitchen, seeing to your dinner.’ She emphasized the word ‘your’. ‘Dr Tate was talking to Mother. And Alfie was hardly filling his pockets. The poor boy can scarcely stand without his crutches.’

  ‘Dr Tate – what happened to Andrew?’ James sneered. ‘Very cosy, calling on my wife, I must say. Bringing the brat with him was a good excuse.’ He gave her arm a shake and released her. ‘Now, go and dish my dinner up and you’d better hope it isn’t ruined.’

  It wasn’t quite ruined but Louise was careful to cut away the burned edges of the batter. She filled his plate, making sure he had the lion’s share of the sausage meat, and took it in to him. He was at the dining table, a half empty whisky tumbler in his hand. She resisted the temptation to point out that it was the last bottle from her father’s cellar. Goodness knew when or where they’d get any more.

  She put the plate in front of him. ‘I’ll just take Mother’s up to her,’ she said.

  ‘Never mind that. Sit down. I want to talk to you.’

  She perched nervously on the edge of a chair. Was he going to start ranting about Andrew again?

  ‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said. ‘Perhaps your friend’s right about Mother. But if he’s wrong and she really needs constant nursing, she should be in a nursing home.’

  ‘I couldn’t do that to her. I don’t mind looking after her. Besides, I gave my father my word.’

  ‘I worry about you, darling.’ His manner changed completely to the false tone of concern which told her he wanted something. ‘You have so much to do – this house, your mother….’

  Louise waited. She knew she would never agree, whatever he was about to suggest – not if it meant breaking her promise.

  ‘Listen, darling,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘We don’t need all this room. It’s too much for you on your own. We could sell the house, move somewhere smaller, use some of the money to make sure Mother is looked after.’

  She almost laughed aloud in relief. ‘No, James, that’s not possible.’

  Before she could explain, his manner changed. ‘Why not?’ he snapped.

  ‘The house isn’t mine. You see, Father stipulated in his will that it was Mother’s for her lifetime, then it reverts to me.’

  A look of fury crossed James’s face, gone before she was really sure what she’d seen. Why? Was he really so anxious to get rid of the burden of a bedridden mother-in-law?

  He picked up his knife and fork. ‘I hadn’t realized. Oh well, there’s no more to be said then.’ He attacked his dinner, shovelling the food in and for once, not finding anything to complain about.

  ‘Well, you’d better serve Mother and have your own. You’ll need to get changed before my friends arrive.’

  She had quite forgotten that he was expecting friends for drinks and cards. Another long evening of walking on eggshells and keeping a smile on her face while James showed off, she thought. Well, unless they brought their own drink, they wouldn’t be able to get drunk this time. The cellar was nearly empty.

  They finished their meal in silence and Louise got up to clear the plates away. ‘I’ll just pop up and see to Mother before I wash up,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll go. You get on with things down here. They’ll be here soon. Put the card table up and put out some glasses. And I noticed you don’t seem to have had time to dust in there today. Too busy entertaining your friends, I suppose.’

  Louise ignored the jibe and started to stack the plates onto a tray. ‘I’m sorry James. I’ll see to it right away.’ She hated using such a submissive tone but she just didn’t have the energy for another argument.

  He nodded in satisfaction. ‘Right. I’ll go up to Mother. I hope she enjoyed the chocolates.’

  Louise gritted her teeth. ‘It was very kind of you James. She does appreciate it.’

  James was whistling as he went upstairs and Louise wondered at his quick change of mood. It was so wearing, never knowing how he’d react or what frame of mind he’d be in when he arrived home. Sometimes she wondered if it was all in her mind. His remarks would probably seem innocent to an onlooker but they often had the power to frighten her. But there was no misinterpreting his anger when he’d come upon Alfie in the drawing room. She was sure that if she hadn’t come in at that moment he would have attacked the boy physically.

  As she mechanically went about her chores, she tried not to think about Alfie and the disillusioned look on his thin little face when he realized he wouldn’t be able to stay. She polished the glasses and took them through to the drawing room, set up the card table and rearranged the chairs. She took the remaining bottles out of the sideboard, noting the low level in the gin and whisky bottles. There was plenty of soda and tonic but no fresh lemons. James would complain but there was nothing she could do about that. No one had seen a lemon for months.

  As she returned to the kitchen she glanced up the stairs. James was spending a long time with her stepmother; it wasn’t like him to volunteer to do anything in the nature of caring for her needs. He would sit on the side of her bed, patting her hand, flattering her and playing the perfect son-in-law but that was usually the extent of his involvement.

  Louise’s lips twisted in a wry smile as she wondered if he was trying to cajole Dora into selling the house. He clearly hadn’t taken in what she’d said. Dora couldn’t sell even if she wanted to. Besides, who’d buy it? The property business, as well as the building trade, had been in decline since the war started. Instead of buildi
ng new houses, they were relying on the rents from houses they already owned.

  Why was James so keen to sell? Was it just to get rid of the burden of an ailing mother-in-law? Or was he desperate for money?

  Louise knew it was no good asking. If he was in a good mood he’d pat her hand and tell her not to worry her pretty little head about such things. And if he was in a bad one, his lips would thin and a glint would come into his eyes. ‘None of your business,’ he would snap and that would be the end of the matter.

  She went back into the drawing room to make sure everything was how James liked it and then went upstairs to change and do her hair. As she passed Dora’s room she heard laughter – Dora’s light tinkle and James’s throaty chuckle. The sound boded well for the coming evening.

  She was patting her hair into place when the door opened and she swung round, tense for a word of criticism. Her shoulders relaxed as James said, ‘Lovely, my dear.’ He held out a hand and drew her towards him. ‘You’re a credit to me, the perfect hostess. They really envy me, you know. They like coming here for card evenings. Steve and Ed live in lodgings and Roly’s wife won’t let him have us round there. I told him he should put his foot down.’ James laughed. ‘Under the thumb, poor old sod.’

  Louise didn’t like James’s new friends. They weren’t business colleagues or old school friends. She thought they’d met in the pub or at the race course. She wondered why they weren’t in the forces. Like James they showed no sign of being exempt on medical grounds but perhaps they were in reserved occupations. Not that she cared. She just hoped they would all behave themselves that evening. At least, unless they brought their own drink with them, there would be no drunken carousing.

  The doorbell rang and she hurried down to answer it. The three men greeted her exuberantly. They had obviously already visited the pub. Louise recoiled at the smell of alcohol on their breath.