Love or Duty Page 22

  He was adamant that Dora mustn’t be left alone. ‘Who knows what could happen?’ he’d said. ‘She might try to get downstairs and have a fall; she could take too many of her tablets – you know how confused she gets.’ He had seemed genuinely upset but Louise couldn’t help feeling it was just an act. But why? It wasn’t as if he had anything to gain by being nice to Dora. Perhaps she’d misjudged him and he was genuinely fond of her. He certainly spent a lot of time in her room and Louise had often heard them laughing together.

  She looked at her watch again, tempted to leave anyway. She’d made sure Dora had everything she needed and, if Mrs Howard didn’t turn up, surely it wouldn’t hurt to leave her for a couple of hours. Going to the pictures with Muriel was her only pleasure these days and she was reluctant to give it up today. Goodness knows, I need something to cheer me up, she thought. She was still feeling depressed and tired after yet again discovering she was not pregnant. Losing herself in what was happening up on the screen would help to take her mind off her troubles for a while.

  She opened the front door, smiling with relief as she saw Dora’s friend hurrying up the road.

  ‘So sorry, my dear – long queue at the butcher’s. You know what it’s like,’ she panted, patting Louise’s arm. ‘Hurry along, dear. You don’t want to be late on duty.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Howard. I’ll try not to be late back.’ Louise felt guilty for lying about where she was going. But she daren’t tell the woman the truth in case she mentioned it to Dora. Her stepmother felt neglected enough already but had reluctantly submitted to Louise’s absences in the belief that she was ‘doing her bit’ for the war effort. Both she and James would be furious if they knew she was enjoying an afternoon at the pictures.

  Muriel was waiting outside the Picturedrome when she turned the corner. The friends greeted each other and studied the posters outside the cinema. ‘I didn’t even check to see what was on,’ she said. ‘Do you really want to see this?’

  ‘It sounds a bit risqué,’ Muriel said, reading from the poster. ‘Sultry, sizzling, sensual – The Sultan’s Treasure. Not exactly Mrs Miniver is it?’ Her face was a bit pink and she stifled a giggle, pointing to the picture of a voluptuous beauty, her face half concealed by a filmy veil. ‘What do you think – should we…?’

  Louise hesitated. Wasn’t this the film Sarah had mentioned in one of her letters? But her name wasn’t on the poster and, if she was in it, the part was probably not as big as she’d hinted.

  Muriel tugged at her arm. ‘Come on. We can always leave if we don’t like it.’

  They settled down in the darkened cinema as the newsreel came on with its scenes of fighting in the desert and bomb damage nearer home, followed by an information film showing people how to make the most of their rations.

  At last the main film started and Louise soon became lost in the rather corny tale of a young girl abducted into a harem to become the ‘sultan’s treasure’ and her subsequent rescue by the hero. She just couldn’t believe it was her little sister up there on the screen. Her acting talent had certainly developed over the past few years, Louise thought. No wonder she hadn’t recognized her in that other film. The name had thrown her off too. Why had she changed it?

  She glanced at her friend who was totally immersed in the screen. Had Muriel recognized ‘Sally Charles’ as the girl who used to visit her father in the offices of Charlton and Spencer? And, if she had, what would her rather strait-laced friend think of the transformation from child singer to sultry siren of the screen?

  Louise didn’t care. She was proud of Sarah’s success and she’d write and tell her so as soon as she got home. As the film came to an end and the credits rolled over the closing scene of the lovers riding off into the sunset, the name Sally Charles leapt out at her. Louise wondered again why she’d changed it. She had always wanted to sing and act and had always dreamt of being famous. Perhaps she was ashamed of the sort of film she was starring in. Was that why she hadn’t written for so long?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Louise didn’t tell anyone about seeing Sarah in the film. At one time she’d have boasted about her film star sister. But when she realized Muriel hadn’t recognized her, something stopped her from revealing that Sarah had become Sally Charles. Even when she realized that her friend wasn’t quite as strait-laced as she’d always thought, she wasn’t sure why she hadn’t said anything.

  When they came out of the cinema, she’d asked Muriel’s opinion of the film.

  ‘A bit risqué, but fun though,’ Muriel had said. ‘Total nonsense, of course.’ She gave a half laugh. ‘Why don’t things like that happen in real life?’

  Louise laughed too. ‘So you want to be abducted by a sheikh, do you?’

  ‘’Course not, silly. But to be rescued and gallop off into the sunset….’ She sighed.

  ‘Yes, I can just see some handsome man riding along the prom in Holton looking for maidens in distress.’

  They had both laughed but Louise’s thoughts were sombre. While she was at the pictures she could daydream but she had to return to real life. And in real life, no one was going to rescue her from James. Now, she had to go home and face him and her stepmother, and lie about where she’d been – innocent as the outing was.

  If she confessed, she was sure that James would put an end to her afternoons with Muriel, if only by playing on her feelings of guilt. But why shouldn’t she occasionally escape from the monotony of queuing for food and trying to make the rations go round?

  Since seeing her in The Sultan’s Treasure, Louise had been to the pictures several times but she hadn’t seen Sarah in any of the films. This, coupled with the fact that she’d had no answer to her letters, made her wonder how her sister’s career was going. She’d been so excited about going to Hollywood and her early letters had been full of references to Ralph Beauchamp, the man who was going to launch her as a star. Her letters since then had become shorter and less frequent. In fact, Louise realized, she hadn’t heard from her sister for over a year.

  She resolved to write again. Sarah ought to be told about her mother’s health. Dora was becoming frailer and her mind was often confused. Sometimes she called James ‘Stanley’ and mistook Louise for Sarah and she’d stopped knitting for the Red Cross months ago.

  Dr Tate had prescribed some different tablets but they didn’t seem to be doing any good and this morning James had broached the subject of a nursing home once more.

  ‘It’s wearing you out, darling, all that running up and down stairs, and the cooking and cleaning, not to mention your WVS work. I worry about you, darling,’ he said, taking her hand.

  ‘I’m perfectly all right. Other women have far more to cope with than I do. And I don’t mind looking after Mother,’ she protested.

  At one time she’d have been touched by his concern but he nagged away at her like a persistent toothache and she realized he was trying to wear her down. He hadn’t mentioned selling the house again but she had a feeling that was behind it. Why? Were they so short of money?

  Once more she regretted that she hadn’t insisted on being involved with the business – after all she owned a share in it. But between looking after Dora and running the household, as well as her WVS work, she’d let it slide.

  Besides, after yet another sleepless night, she was too tired to care. There’d been another raid last night and she’d been helping at the rest centre. It was a miracle no one had been killed but so many people had lost everything.

  She got back to find that Mrs Howard had just left. James was already home after helping in the rescue. Louise had long since given up hoping that their shared experiences would bring them closer. He refused to talk about it and she couldn’t help a sneaking suspicion that not all his absences were due to warden duties.

  He’d gone straight to bed and, after checking on Dora, she’d done the washing as well as cleaning out the range and lighting it so that the kitchen would be warm when James woke.

  She’d jus
t come in from hanging the sheets on the line when she heard the rattle of the letterbox. She rushed into the hall. Perhaps there’d be a letter from Sarah today. Hope died when she saw there was just one envelope addressed to James. He came out of the kitchen as she picked it up.

  ‘Is that all?’ he asked, glancing at it and shoving it in his pocket. ‘Nothing from your sister?’ His voice was sharp and she waited for one of his barbed comments. But he shrugged and said, ‘About time she wrote. Mother’s getting worried.’

  ‘I am too,’ Louise confessed.

  ‘Well, you shouldn’t be. She’s probably living it up over there while her mother’s sick and you’re struggling to look after her. Still, she always was a self-centred little madam.’

  Before Louise could reply, he opened the front door and strode off down the path. ‘I won’t be home for lunch,’ he called as he reached the front gate.

  She stood for a moment looking after him. What was that all about? She wondered. He rarely mentioned Sarah, had shown no interest in the fact that his sister-in-law was a well-known singer and blossoming movie star. Was it really concern for his wife and mother-in-law that annoyed him? Or was it that she’d insisted on consulting Sarah before making a decision on putting Mother in a nursing home?

  The insistent ringing of Dora’s bell broke into her thoughts and she went upstairs, her feet dragging as she neared the bedroom. If only she weren’t so tired.

  She pasted a smile on her face and went in to see what Dora wanted.

  ‘My tea’s gone cold – and James didn’t come in to say goodbye. He’s always in such a hurry,’ she complained.

  ‘You know he’s busy with the office and trying to fit his warden work in as well.’ Louise hated making excuses for him. She knew very well that he often left the office and spent time in the Red Lion.

  ‘I shouldn’t complain. I know the dear boy works hard.’

  Louise picked up the tray, hiding a smile. If only she knew what he was really like, she thought. But Dora only saw the best in him and he was always at his most charming when he sat playing cards with her or telling amusing stories about his day.

  ‘I’ll make some fresh tea,’ she said.

  When she returned Dora had fallen asleep but she started up as the door closed. ‘Oh, there you are. I thought you’d gone out and left me alone again,’ she said.

  Louise didn’t reply. Her stepmother was never left alone; if she and James were both out, Mrs Howard or one of the other church ladies always sat with her. But it was useless to protest. If she didn’t come immediately in answer to the bell, Dora accused her of neglect.

  She poured the tea and put it on the bedside table. ‘I must wash up and tidy the kitchen. I’m at home all day today, Mother, but I must get some housework done. You’ll be all right for a while, won’t you?’

  ‘I suppose so. I never thought I’d say this but I do miss Polly. Why did she have to go and work in that horrible factory? She had a good life here. We treated her like one of the family.’

  Dora had a rather selective memory, Louise thought, remembering the times she’d berated the poor woman.

  ‘She earns far more now than we could afford to pay her,’ she said mildly.

  Dora’s lips tightened but before she could say anything, Louise left the room with the excuse that she had a lot to do.

  As she mopped the kitchen floor and took the rubbish out, she reflected that she quite enjoyed housekeeping. It was something she was good at and she would have been perfectly content if her marriage had turned out the way she’d hoped. She had never been ambitious like her half-sister. Looking after a home and family with a man you loved must surely be the way to happiness, she thought.

  But the longed-for children hadn’t come and the man she married had turned out to be someone who turned on the charm when he wanted his own way, but became cold and repressive when thwarted.

  In that he was very like Dora, Louise realized as she swept and dusted the little used drawing room. As she worked, she thought once more how much easier her life would be if she didn’t have to keep going up and downstairs. But when she’d proposed moving some of the furniture into the dining room and bringing Dora’s bed down there, James had vetoed the suggestion. ‘Mother’s comfortable with all her familiar things around her,’ he said. ‘Besides, it would be such an upheaval. I can’t have you wearing yourself out, changing everything round.’

  Louise had the disloyal thought that it was he who didn’t want the hassle. But when he pointed out that the bathroom was right next to her bedroom, she’d agreed to leave things as they were.

  This would make a nice bed-sitting room though, Louise thought as she straightened the cushions and gave a final swipe with the duster. And there’s the cloakroom down the hall.

  The mantel clock chimed noon. Almost lunchtime. Still, it wouldn’t matter if it was bit late. James wouldn’t be home today. Dora’s bell sounded again. ‘She’ll have to wait,’ Louise muttered. She’d put the soup on first then go up to see what she wanted.

  As she prepared the lunch she tried to ignore the insistent ringing. She really didn’t mind attending to her stepmother’s needs but sometimes she was a bit too demanding. Perhaps giving her that bell had been a mistake.

  ‘I need my tablet,’ Dora said as soon as she entered the room.

  ‘You’ve already had it,’ Louise said, trying to hide her impatience.

  ‘I need another one. James always gives me one with my lunch when he’s here.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Louise picked up the bottle. ‘It says on the label twice a day.’

  She’d have to speak to James. Dr Tate had insisted that Dora didn’t take more than the stated dose. It was one thing to pander to her whims for the sake of a quiet life, but not to the extent of letting her have too much of her medicine. When she’d found the bottle on the bedside table that time, she’d managed to convince herself that she’d left it there herself. But now that fleeting suspicion that James was up to something returned. Perhaps he thought it would be easier to persuade Dora into a nursing home if she became more confused.

  After giving her stepmother her lunch and making sure she was comfortable, Louise went downstairs and sat down in Cookie’s old rocking chair by the range. She was so tired she couldn’t think straight. If only there was someone she could talk over her worries with. Despite her growing friendship with Muriel she wasn’t quite ready to confide in her.

  She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. She ought to get the washing in and start on the ironing but she couldn’t force herself out of the chair. Her last thought as she lapsed into a deep sleep was of Sarah. I could confide in you, she thought. Why aren’t you here? Why don’t you at least write?

  Louise woke with a start, conscious that the sound of Dora’s bell had disturbed her dreams. But it wasn’t that which had woken her.

  Footsteps thundered down the stairs and the kitchen door was flung open. She started up from the chair as James shook her by the shoulders. ‘How could you leave her like that?’ he shouted, spittle flying in her face. ‘Go up and see to her while I phone for an ambulance.’

  Louise, wide awake now, rushed up to Dora’s room. Her stepmother was lying on the floor amid the debris of her lunch tray. The bottle of sleeping tablets was inches from her outflung hand. Relieved, Louise saw that the top was still on it so she hadn’t taken any more tablets. Dora had probably been reaching for it when she fell. But I’m sure I put it away, Louise thought.

  Kneeling, she gently wiped away the blood seeping from a cut on her stepmother’s temple. ‘Mother, speak to me.’ Guilt stabbed at her heart as she recalled the ringing of the bell piercing her dreams. How had she slept through it?

  Dora stirred and groaned.

  ‘Don’t try to move. James has gone for an ambulance. Tell me where it hurts.’

  Her stepmother’s eyes fluttered and closed. Her lips were blue and her breathing ragged.

  ‘Hurry, please hurry,’ Louise praye
d. She had learned first aid in the WVS and knew she shouldn’t try to move her. She grabbed a pillow and gently eased it under Dora’s head, pulled a blanket off the bed and covered her.

  There was nothing else she could do and she sat holding the older woman’s hand, her thoughts churning. I know I was tired but how could I have slept so deeply? I’ve always tried to be a dutiful daughter, to keep my promise to Father to look after Dora.

  It was true she’d sometimes felt resentful of the demands made on her, but she had tried her best. Tears began to fall as she prayed that Dora would be all right.

  James’s harsh voice roused her. ‘Don’t know what you’re crying about. It’s your fault she’s in this state. You should’ve been listening out for her.’ He knelt beside Dora and took her hand, pushing Louise out of the way. ‘The ambulance will be here soon, dear. You’ll be all right.’

  Dora sank into unconsciousness and died later that night in hospital. Louise was inconsolable. She hadn’t really loved her stepmother and she knew it was her sense of guilt that caused her grief.

  Dr Tate was at the hospital and he advised James to take her home and give her a sedative. ‘I’ll call tomorrow, my dear,’ he said.

  James shook hands with the doctor and put his arm round her, leading her outside with every appearance of loving concern. But when they got home, he turned to her and snapped. ‘Stop snivelling, woman. If you’d taken my advice over the nursing home, this wouldn’t have happened. She would have been properly cared for.’

  ‘I did care for her,’ Louise protested. She might not have loved Dora as a daughter should but she had tried to for her father’s sake. Besides, she thought rebelliously, it wasn’t all her fault. If James had agreed to move Dora’s bed downstairs, she would have heard her and woken in time to fetch help. No one was sure how long she’d lain on the cold floor before he arrived home.