Love or Duty Page 23
A few days after the funeral Louise was half dozing on the sofa in the drawing room. She was roused by the low murmur of voices from the hall. ‘I’m worried, Doctor.’ That was James, she thought.
‘Well, it’s no good telling her to snap out of it, you know. Grief takes many forms. Sometimes it takes a long time to get back to normal life.’
Dr Tate’s deep voice sounded a little impatient, Louise thought. Perhaps she should make more of an effort. It wasn’t like her to lie around feeling sorry for herself.
‘I’m really worried about her,’ James said, his voice choking on a sob.
The doctor murmured something and there came the sound of the front door closing. When the drawing-room door opened Louise was lying back with her eyes closed. You don’t fool me, she thought. She’d known that as soon as the doctor left his manner would change.
He slammed the door and she jerked upright. ‘You going to lie there all day?’ he said. ‘About time you pulled yourself together and starting acting like a wife. I’ve been working all day and I come home to find you lazing around. Don’t know what you’re upset about – you didn’t even like the old bag.’
Louise flinched as much at the grain of truth in his words as the venom in his voice. She hadn’t liked Dora, had often wondered why her father had married her. But she was Sarah’s mother and for her and her father’s sake she had tried to love her. Surely no one could doubt that over the past few years she had done her duty as a real daughter would.
James was right though. She should try to start living again, get out of the house, make herself useful once more. If only she wasn’t so tired. Perhaps it was the medicine Dr Tate had given her. She had refused the sleeping tablets, remembering how confused they’d made Dora. But he had insisted she needed a tonic to build her up.
She struggled up from the sofa and walked unsteadily into the kitchen. James followed her, pausing in the doorway. ‘We’ll eat in the dining room. I’ve had enough of living like a common labourer. Now that you haven’t got to keep taking trays upstairs you’ll have time to do things properly.’ He went into the dining room and slammed the door.
Louise looked round helplessly wondering what she could cook. She hadn’t been outside the house since the funeral and James hadn’t been home for his meals at all lately. She opened the larder door, not expecting to see much there. To her surprise there was a pie on the shelf and a covered casserole dish. She remembered then that several of her stepmother’s church friends had called round after the funeral. How kind people were, she thought. She must make the effort to go to church on Sunday and thank them all.
But she never got to church. She began to suffer dizzy spells and took to her bed. It was almost like the time she’d had the fever. In a rare moment of consciousness she became aware of James leaning over her. ‘Take your medicine, dear,’ he said, holding a small glass to her lips.
She tried to push his hand away but he slapped her face. ‘Drink it,’ he commanded.
She choked as he forced her to drink and some of it ran down her chin. Her last thought as she fell into a heavy sleep was that she was turning into Dora. Then she dreamed she was running along the beach, the wind in her hair, the shingle crunching under her feet. She was a girl again and Sarah was with her, laughing and teasing her about Andrew Tate. ‘Sarah, help me,’ she muttered. But Sarah seemed to have cut herself off from her family. She hadn’t even replied to the letter telling her of her mother’s death.
Chapter Twenty-Two
James was worried and frightened. The people he owed money to weren’t the sort to wait and he cursed the day he’d let Roly talk him into visiting that illegal gambling club in Brighton.
The massive bomb that had destroyed most of the houses in a row owned by Charlton and Spencer was the last straw. Even those still standing were dangerous and beyond repair and the rents from them had been almost their only source of income lately.
James groaned and tugged at his hair. He needed money and his only hope now was to sell Steyne House. Thank God the offer from the ministry was still on the table. Everyone knew they were getting ready for the big push and the war department staff needed accommodation. But if he didn’t finalize the deal, the property would be no use to them.
Damn Sarah. Why hadn’t she signed those papers? And why hadn’t Louise made it clear to him earlier that she’d need Sarah’s signature? He was sure she’d told him the house would be solely hers after Dora died.
He jumped up and rushed out of the office. There must be a way round it. Louise would have to speak to the solicitor. It was for her own good too, he told himself. Dora’s death had affected her badly and she was still suffering from depression. She just couldn’t manage that big house. Much as he hated the thought, they’d have to move into one of their small rental properties.
As he rounded the corner he bumped into the Reverend Ayling. He forced himself to smile and respond to his inquiries about Louise’s health.
‘Please tell her that I’ll call round soon,’ the vicar said.
‘I’m afraid she’s not up to visitors at the moment,’ James said.
‘Well, be sure to give her my good wishes and tell her the congregation is praying for her.’
James nodded. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’m just on my way home now. I like to pop in and make sure Louise is all right.’
He hurried away grinning to himself. It didn’t hurt to let people think they were a devoted couple. He’d keep up the act a bit longer – just till he had his hands on the house and her share of the business.
Louise was feeling better. She’d woken early, relieved that James hadn’t come home the night before. She’d waited as long as possible before eating her own evening meal and going straight to bed.
She’d slept well for the first time in months. She went into the bathroom and picked up the bottle of tonic that Dr Tate had prescribed – she’d forgotten to take it last night. She shrugged and put it down without measuring out the usual dose. I’m sure I don’t need it, she told herself. It’s time I stopped relying on medicine to see me through the day. James is right. Sitting around feeling sorry for myself won’t help. Besides, I know deep down that I wasn’t responsible for Dora’s death. There was nothing I could have done. And I must stop blaming James too. He wasn’t even in the house when she fell.
She put the bottle back on the shelf, brushed her teeth and went downstairs. After breakfast she set about cleaning the kitchen with more energy than she’d had for weeks. The sun was pouring in through the kitchen window and she opened the back door, breathing in the fresh sea air. Summer had come almost without her realizing it.
I’ll go into town today, she thought; maybe I’ll see Muriel. She’d been a little hurt that her friend hadn’t called to inquire how she was. But then, knowing how much she disliked James, Louise couldn’t blame her for not coming round. Still, she could have telephoned.
She washed her hands and tidied her hair and was about to pick up her handbag when the front door opened.
‘James, you’re home,’ she said brightly, anxious not to annoy him by asking where he’d been.
‘Just making sure you’re all right, darling,’ he said, smiling. ‘Still, it seems you’re feeling better. Where are you off to?’
‘I’m off to the shops. Everyone’s been so kind, but it’s about time I stopped relying on other people.’
‘Are you sure you’re well enough? You don’t want to overdo it.’
She wasn’t sure if it was flicker of annoyance or genuine concern that passed across his face. ‘I was just going to take a gentle stroll up to the butcher’s, that’s all.’
‘Plenty of time, darling. Come and sit down. Have a cup of tea with me first. You can’t dash off the minute I get home.’ He took her arm and led her into the kitchen. ‘Sit down. I’ll do it.’
She sat in the old rocking chair and leaned back. Why was he being so nice to her? Was it because she seemed to be almost her old self again – ready to
be what he called a ‘proper wife’?
He made the tea and turned to her. ‘I’ll just pop up and get changed, then we can sit and have a chat.’ He ran up the stairs whistling. A minute later he returned, the tonic bottle in his hand. ‘You haven’t taken your medicine today,’ he said.
‘I was feeling so much better I decided not to,’ she said.
‘You decided? Surely it’s up to Dr Tate to make that decision.’ He got a spoon from the drawer and poured out a dose.
She turned her head away as he held the spoon towards her, ‘No, really, James. I don’t want it.’
‘Drink it,’ he commanded.
She flinched at his harsh tone and immediately he smiled. ‘Come on, darling. It’s for your own good. You know how much I worry about you.’
Reluctantly, she swallowed the medicine, resolving to speak to the doctor about it. She was sure she didn’t need it now. James held out another spoonful. ‘There, that didn’t hurt did it?’ he said, as if speaking to a child. He put the bottle and spoon down and turned to her. ‘Now, let’s have that tea.’
He sat opposite her and asked, ‘No word from your sister yet?’
Louise shook her head, feeling a lump in her throat. Why had Sarah cut herself off from her family? Was she having such a good time over there? But even if she had no time for Louise now that she was famous actress, she should have written when she’d heard about her mother’s death. Of course, Sarah had always been a bit self-centred, especially when it came to her career, but she had loved her mother.
James stirred his tea thoughtfully. ‘You must write to her again.’
‘I don’t see why I should. If she ignores me why should I bother to write?’
‘You must. I mean, with the war and ships being sunk, she may not have got your letters.’
Louise leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to think about it. Her brief burst of energy that morning had dissipated. Perhaps she’d overdone it after all. James’s voice came to her through a haze of tiredness. He was saying something about the business.
‘We need some capital,’ he said.
What did he mean?
He shook her by the arm. ‘Listen to me, Louise. This is serious. I’ve tried to shield you from my problems. But we have to do something.’
‘I don’t understand. I know you haven’t been able to do any building work but we’ve still got the rents.’
‘You haven’t been listening to me. Those houses – a whole street – hit by that big bomb last week. They were our properties. No one can move back there. And we’ll have to pay for the repairs.’
Louise forced herself to concentrate. ‘I thought you got compensation from the government.’
‘We might, but with all the red tape that could take months, years even. We need money now. And the only way is to sell this house.’
‘But we can’t unless Sarah agrees.’
‘Exactly. That’s why you must write to her again. Tell her she must sign the form you sent her.’
Louise sighed. ‘I’ll do it later, James. I’m too tired to think straight just now.’
He stood up and snatched the cup and saucer from her. ‘You were all right earlier. Weren’t you just getting ready to go out? Now, when I want you to do something, suddenly you’re too tired. Well, you can just pull yourself together and get it done.’ He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the chair, propelling her out of the kitchen and into his study.
‘Sit down and start writing.’ He produced paper, pen and ink.
As she picked up the pen, tears began to fall. She scribbled frantically, ‘Why, why don’t you write? Are you all right? I need to hear from you.’
James glanced over her shoulder. ‘That won’t do,’ he said, snatching the paper and screwing it up. ‘Start again. Write what I tell you.’
By now Louise’s head was swimming. What was wrong with her? She’d been perfectly all right until she took her medicine. The tonic was supposed to perk her up, not send her to sleep. James’s voice hammered in her head and it was easier to write down what he dictated.
‘There, that’ll do. Let’s hope she appreciates the urgency,’ he said, taking the letter and folding it. He waited while she wrote the address and then sealed the envelope. ‘I’ll post this on my way back to the office.’ He turned at the door. ‘Give me the ration book. I’ll get something at the butcher’s. You’re in no state to go shopping.’ He bent and kissed her cheek, the loving husband again now she had done his bidding. ‘Get some rest, darling. You’ll feel better after a sleep.’
Louise couldn’t even summon the energy to get up from the desk. She laid her head down and closed her eyes, relieved when the front door closed and she heard him whistling again as he went down the front path. Pleased with himself, now he’s got his own way, she thought.
Her thoughts churned as she half dozed. She hated the thought of leaving the house where she’d spent her whole life and which held such happy memories of her early life with Father. Telling James she needed her sister’s signature too had only delayed the inevitable. Anyway, perhaps he was right. It was all too much for her to cope with since her health had deteriorated. She thought of the many unused rooms gathering dust, the neglected garden. Life would be simpler in a smaller place, she told herself.
The clock in the hall chimed and she sat up, rubbing her eyes. She stumbled into the kitchen and surveyed the mess. Surely she’d cleaned up this morning. She remembered James making the tea but he hadn’t put anything away and the cups were still on the table. As she slowly and unsteadily began to put things to rights, she thought back to that morning. Where had that burst of energy come from?
She picked up the tonic bottle which James had left on the dresser. She’d been all right until she’d taken the medicine. Could Dr Tate have possibly prescribed the wrong stuff? It was true he was getting old and a bit vague but he’d been a good doctor, attending the family ever since she could remember. She didn’t want to believe it, but that was easier than entertaining suspicions about her husband. She put the bottle on a high shelf at the back of the larder, resolved not to take any more, no matter what James said. And, as soon as possible, she’d have a tactful word with the doctor.
When she’d finished tidying up, she looked out of the kitchen window. The sun was still shining and a breeze ruffled the leaves of the lilac tree by the back door. ‘I will go out,’ she said aloud. Perhaps the fresh air would blow the cobwebs away. I don’t have to go far, just down to the seafront to look at the sea. It seemed ages since she’d last taken a walk just for the pleasure of it.
She put on a hat and jacket and picked up her handbag, smiling at the thought of James queuing in the butcher’s. He wouldn’t of course. He’d get that girl, Nancy, to do it.
At the front gate she glanced up the road and was about to turn towards the seafront when Muriel came round the corner. Before she could speak her friend said, ‘Oh, you’re better. I’m so glad. James gave me the impression you were at death’s door. I’ve been so worried.’
‘I’ve just been a bit tired and rundown that’s all.’
‘Thank goodness it wasn’t anything serious. James said you weren’t up to having visitors or I’d have called. And your telephone’s been out of order so I couldn’t ring.’
‘I thought you’d forgotten me,’ Louise said.
‘Didn’t James give you my note?’
Louise shook her head.
‘Never mind,’ said Muriel. ‘Where are you off to now?’
‘Just getting a bit of fresh air. It’s about time I started getting out and about.’
‘Come on then, let’s get some roses in those cheeks.’ Muriel tucked Louise’s arm into hers and they set off across the road and along the promenade.
Louise’s legs soon began to shake from the unaccustomed exercise and she stopped to take a breath. ‘Let’s sit down for a moment,’ she said.
They sat on a low wall looking out to sea across the tangle of
rusting barbed wire. The breeze ruffled the water and seabirds cried as they skimmed the waves in search of food. Despite the sea defences and blurred outline of naval ships on the horizon it seemed very peaceful. Louise sighed contentedly.
‘I do love it here,’ she said. ‘I always said I wanted to get away from Holton but when I was in London, I longed for the sight of the sea.’
‘Do you ever wish you’d gone to America with Sarah?’
‘I thought about it but Father made me promise to look after Dora.’ She couldn’t tell her friend the real reason she wanted to stay in Holton. Resolutely, she pushed the thought of Andrew to the back of her mind.
‘The pull of duty is strong,’ Muriel said. ‘I could have married you know. My fiancé was in the diplomatic service. He was posted to India and wanted me to go with him. But I couldn’t leave Mother – she’d gone through so much. My father died young and then my brother was killed at Ypres.’
Louise didn’t know what to say. It was the first time Muriel had confided in her. She’d always been the staid Miss Baines, her father’s secretary, and even when they’d become friends they hadn’t exchanged confidences.
Muriel gave a half laugh. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to sound gloomy. It’s all in the past and I’m quite content now. I’m more worried about you. Still, James seems to be taking care of you. He’s most solicitous.’
‘Too solicitous sometimes,’ Louise said. ‘He hovers over me, makes me take my medicine, stops my friends from calling….’ Suddenly she became overwhelmed and her eyes filled with tears.
Muriel put her arm round her. ‘It’s all right. Maybe you need a good cry.’
Suddenly the words gushed forth, releasing the guilt she felt over Dora’s death – feelings she’d kept pent up for too long. ‘If I hadn’t fallen asleep I’d have heard her. I could have got help sooner,’ she sobbed.
‘You weren’t to blame. You were exhausted yourself.’ Muriel tried to comfort her but she couldn’t stop.
‘It’s not just that. I lied to James about the house.’ In a broken voice, punctuated by sniffs and hiccups she confided in her friend that she didn’t want to leave Steyne House and had told James she needed her sister’s signature before they could sell. ‘He made me send the papers to her and now she’s going to wonder what’s going on.’