Love or Duty Page 24

  ‘Why is he so keen to sell? Nobody’s buying houses now.’

  Louise told her about the offer from the ministry. ‘James says we need the money but I don’t understand. Even if business is at a standstill we still have some capital.’ Normally, she wouldn’t have dreamt of mentioning financial matters. It just wasn’t done. But Muriel’s long involvement with Charlton and Spencer meant that she’d understand.

  ‘Things seemed to be ticking over all right when I was still there. But when James took over he wouldn’t let me have anything to do with business. I was reduced to being nothing but a filing clerk.’ Muriel’s voice was bitter.

  ‘I’m sorry about that. My father always relied on you.’

  ‘It wasn’t the same after he died. I was glad to go. James and I just didn’t see eye to eye.’ Muriel stood up. ‘I’m sorry, I know he’s your husband but seriously, Louise, I don’t know why you married him.’

  She gave a wry smile. ‘I sometimes wonder that myself. Perhaps it would be different if we had children.’ She shrugged. ‘It seems it’s not to be.’

  They began to walk back to the house. The time for confidences was over. Not that Louise was ready yet to tell her friend that she suspected the medicine James insisted on her taking was not what the doctor had prescribed.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  When Louise got home she was exhausted, whether from the walk or her outburst of emotion she wasn’t sure. Yet, despite the heaviness of her limbs, she felt more like her old self. The chat with Muriel had probably done her as much good as the fresh air, she thought. She’d missed having someone to talk to.

  Although she was tired, she thought she ought to prepare a meal for when James came home and decided to make a Woolton pie. There were a few vegetables and plenty of potatoes with the remains of the cheese ration to give it a bit of flavour. She’d become quite good at adapting recipes to use whatever she had in the larder. It was pointless to wait and see what James had managed to scrounge from the butcher as she had no idea when he’d be home.

  When she opened the larder door and saw the newspaper wrapped package on the stone shelf she knew James had returned while she’d been gone. She felt a little tremor of unease as she unwrapped the liver, dreading the confrontation when he realized she’d gone out after all.

  She reached up to the shelf where she’d hidden the tonic bottle. It wasn’t there. Surely that’s where she’d put it? Perhaps she’d already thrown it away. She had been getting so forgetful lately.

  She shrugged and decided to get on with cooking. They’d have the liver after all – they could have Woolton pie any time. When she went to get a knife from the dresser drawer she saw the note propped up against the tonic bottle.

  Didn’t want to disturb you, darling. Hope you had a good sleep. Don’t forget to take your medicine, J.

  So, he’d thought she was in her room. A wave of relief washed over her. She wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t want him to know she’d been out. He made such a fuss about her health. As she’d confided to Muriel, sometimes he was just too concerned, but instead of making her feel loved and cosseted, it stifled her. She wasn’t like Dora who had ‘enjoyed ill health’ as the saying went. She hated feeling this way and longed for a return of her old carefree self. She had to admit though, that when she was feeling poorly, James was a lot kinder.

  She picked up the bottle and the spoon which James had thoughtfully left beside it. She measured out a dose and then turned to the sink, tipping the spoonful away. Another followed it. She turned the tap on and rinsed it away, then laid the used spoon on the draining board. She re-corked the bottle and resumed preparing the meal. Soon the smell of frying onions filled the kitchen and she realized that for the first time in months she felt really hungry. The sea air really had done her good.

  When James came in she was sitting in the rocking chair, her eyes closed. But the dining room table was laid and the meal ready to dish up. He bent and kissed her cheek. ‘Something smells good,’ he said. ‘You found the meat then?’

  She opened her eyes and smiled. ‘Thank you, yes. I didn’t hear you come in earlier.’

  ‘You must have been sound asleep. I didn’t go up. Better to let you rest. It seems to have done the trick.’ He laughed. ‘Thought I might have to cook my own dinner.’

  Louise managed a laugh as well. He’d never cooked in his life. On those days when she wasn’t well enough to prepare a meal he ate out or made do with sandwiches or beans on toast.

  James poured himself a drink while she dished up. When they were seated he returned to the subject of the house and her father’s will. ‘I hope we don’t have to wait too long to hear from Sarah,’ he said.

  ‘I’m sure she’ll send the papers back as soon as she can.’

  Louise picked at her food, feeling bad about perpetuating the lie but hoping that Sarah stayed true to form and didn’t reply. After all, she hadn’t bothered to write for months.

  James cleared his plate and stood up. ‘Bring my coffee through to the study – that’s if we have any.’

  ‘There’s a little. I’ll clear away first.’

  He turned at the door. ‘Hurry up then – and don’t forget to take your medicine.’

  She didn’t reply. Treating me like a child, she thought, crashing the plates into the sink. Well, I won’t take it. The thought made her smile unwillingly. Now who’s being childish, she asked herself. But she tipped some of the tonic away as she’d done before, glancing nervously at the door as she did so.

  It was a week later and Louise had still managed to avoid taking her medicine, except on a couple of occasions when James had stood over her. She was now convinced that it was the so-called tonic that was causing her confusion and tiredness. But she still wasn’t ready to accuse James of adding something to the mixture. She was equally reluctant to blame Dr Tate but he was getting old and he could have made a mistake.

  The bottle was almost empty and James offered to call in at the surgery and get some more.

  ‘Don’t bother, James. I’ll telephone Dr Tate and ask him to call. He hasn’t been round for ages.’

  ‘It’s no trouble, darling. Besides, the phone’s still out of order.’

  ‘Really? I thought you were speaking to someone the other day.’

  James laughed. ‘You probably heard me swearing because I couldn’t get through.’ He bent and kissed her cheek. ‘I must be off. Now, don’t overdo it, make sure you rest.’

  Louise nodded but when he’d gone she ran up the stairs and began to strip the beds. It was getting harder to disguise from James her sudden access of energy. But he hadn’t commented on the fact that the house was looking cleaner and tidier than it had since Polly had left them. She still wasn’t quite sure why she felt the need to deceive him.

  Downstairs she put the linen in the copper and left it to boil, then got the dustpan and brush. She swept the stairs down and as she reached the bottom she noticed that the wire from the telephone was loose. She jiggled it and lifted the receiver. No sound. She jiggled the wire a bit more and was rewarded with the dialling tone. She couldn’t hide the suspicion that James had loosened the wire. She was convinced he was trying to cut her off from her friends.

  On impulse she dialled the doctor’s number. His housekeeper answered, saying he was on his rounds but that she’d ask him to call.

  ‘It’s not urgent,’ Louise assured her. ‘When he’s not too busy will do.’

  She got on with the rest of her household chores, reflecting once more that when she was feeling well she enjoyed being a housewife. Not for her the life her sister had, although, despite her hurt at being neglected for so long she truly hoped Sarah was happy.

  The thought led her to wonder what James would do if Sarah didn’t return the papers. He was fully convinced that her signature was needed and as each day passed with no word from her he became more desperate, taking out his frustration on her.

  Although James blamed the war for the fall-off in busi
ness, Louise couldn’t help feeling that if her father had still been around things wouldn’t have got so bad. After all, Stanley had brought them through the slump and the problems caused by the disastrous Winter Gardens fire.

  Louise was in the garden hanging out the washing when Dr Tate arrived. He came round to the side gate and called to her. ‘What a pleasure to see you looking so well, my dear. My tonic is doing some good then?’

  When they were seated in the drawing room, he opened his bag. ‘Your husband popped in this morning and asked me for another bottle. I’m so pleased you’re feeling the better for it.’

  Louise hesitated. How could she explain that she felt better for not taking it? ‘Actually, Doctor, I’m not sure I need any more. I’ve been feeling really well lately and—’

  He interrupted. ‘Don’t be hasty, my dear. Let’s examine you first before we decide.’ He got out his stethoscope and listened while he took her pulse. Then he shone a small torch in her eyes and examined her tongue. When he’d finished he leaned back with a sigh of satisfaction.

  ‘I think you’re right – we can dispense with the medication. You must still take plenty of rest though, combined with fresh air and moderate exercise.’ He put his stethoscope away and stood up. ‘I knew it was only a matter of time. You hadn’t had time to grieve over your father’s death before Dora became ill and you were charged with caring for her. You just wore yourself out and when she died your body and subconscious mind told you it was all right to let go. Take it gently though, build yourself up and don’t try to do too much too soon.’

  Louise smiled, relieved that she hadn’t voiced her concerns. Now she could truthfully tell James that there was no need for her to take it.

  As she stood up to see the doctor out, he picked up the bottle. ‘I’m so pleased you don’t need this any more,’ he said.

  James was furious. Interfering old fool, he thought. Now what am I going to do? He had to keep Louise sweet – and docile – for a bit longer. It had been so easy to mix a few of Dora’s sleeping pills with Louise’s medicine and then make sure she took enough to keep her tired and confused.

  He paced his study, grinding his teeth in frustration. He’d come home with his head reeling from trying to manipulate the firm’s finances, only to be greeted by a smiling Louise.

  Pleased as punch she was, telling him that the doctor had called. James had told him there was no need to disturb her and that he’d pick the tonic up on his way home. Why didn’t he say he was going to call? At least he could have made sure he was there. He slammed his fist down on the desk.

  As if that wasn’t frustrating enough, there was still no answer from that sister of hers. If he didn’t get her signature soon, the deal would fall through. He wouldn’t let that happen, though. A sly grin stole over his face. He unlocked a drawer in the desk and took the letter out. It had arrived some time ago and he’d shoved it in the drawer when Louise had come in unexpectedly. He’d burnt the others but never got round to disposing of this one.

  He opened the study door and listened. Louise was bustling around in the kitchen. He heard her humming as she worked. He closed the door and took the flimsy sheet of airmail paper out of the envelope. He didn’t bother reading it. He already knew by heart the sentimental outpourings and the heartbroken pleas to write. He sat down and drew a sheet of writing paper towards him. Uncapping his fountain pen he began to write, covering the paper with a childish scrawl. It wasn’t long before he’d perfected his sister-in-law’s signature. Sarah’s writing was so easy to copy.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Louise continued to feel well and, as her health improved, her suspicions that James had doctored her medicine lessened. How foolish she’d been. What reason could he have for doing such a thing? Besides, if he really wanted to harm her he’d have found another way once she stopped taking the tonic. It was much more likely that the old doctor had made a mistake.

  Now that she was more her old self, James seemed in a better mood too. He no longer asked if there was a letter from Sarah or spoke about selling the house and, although she didn’t dare ask, she assumed that the financial crisis had now been solved.

  After a bout of unseasonably warm weather, it had turned damp and chilly once more but Louise decided to walk to church that morning. James accompanied her and, as they walked up the path to the church door, she said, ‘I think I’ll call in at the WVS centre tomorrow. It’s time I started doing something useful again.’

  James squeezed her arm. ‘I don’t want you overdoing it,’ he said. ‘Remember what Dr Tate said.’

  She laughed. ‘You worry too much. I’m fine.’

  James didn’t reply. He smiled and raised his hat to a group of ladies, shook hands with the vicar and ushered Louise into her pew. As she sat down she heard whispering behind her. ‘Such a charming young man. And how nice to see Louise looking so well.’

  As the organ started to play and the choir came down the aisle, Louise immersed herself in the familiar order of service. But when the Reverend Ayling mounted the pulpit and began his sermon her mind began to wander. Was it her fault that her marriage hadn’t turned out well? Everyone liked James. In the early days of their marriage people had commented on what a charming couple they made. He worked hard both at his business and as an air raid warden. It must be her fault that sometimes he was sarcastic and cold towards her. Even when he was being nice there seemed to be an underlying edge to his manner.

  Yes, she thought, but not everyone is taken in by him. Father was reluctant to have him in the business and Muriel makes no bones about her dislike.

  She stole a glance at his handsome profile. He was looking up at the pulpit, his expression thoughtful, as if he was taking in every word the Reverend Ayling was saying. But she knew that he had no time for the man he described as a pompous old fool. Yet when they left church he would smile and shake the vicar’s hand, complimenting him on his excellent sermon.

  They stood for the final hymn and blessing before filing outside, where the wind had got up and cold rain had started to fall. As they reached the gate Louise saw Andrew holding a big black umbrella over his uncle’s head.

  The memory of their last passionate meeting swept over her in a hot flush and she would have hurried past but Andrew smiled. ‘How nice to see you, Mrs Spencer,’ he said. ‘My uncle tells me you’ve been unwell, but it’s good to see you’re better.’

  Louise winced at the formality. ‘I’m very well,’ she said, ‘thanks to your uncle’s excellent care.’

  Dr Tate took her hand and patted it. ‘I hope you’re taking my advice, my dear. And now, you’d better get out of this rain. We don’t want you catching a chill.’

  ‘Quite right, Doctor,’ said James, taking her arm in a firm grip. ‘Come along, darling,’ he said.

  As he hustled her away Louise couldn’t resist looking back. Andrew was staring after them, his lips tight.

  The rain started to come down harder and James cursed. ‘We should’ve brought the car,’ he said.

  Usually, Louise didn’t mind the rain but she was shivering by the time they got indoors. She took off her wet coat and went into the kitchen to prepare lunch. James appeared in the doorway with two glasses. ‘Better drink this,’ he said. ‘Keep out the cold.’ He handed her a small tot of whisky.

  She pulled a face. ‘You know I don’t like that stuff,’ she said.

  ‘It’s medicinal. As your doctor friend said we can’t have you catching a chill.’

  She sipped cautiously. ‘I didn’t think we had any left,’ she said. Spirits were almost impossible to get nowadays.

  ‘Did a favour for someone – grateful thanks from a client,’ James replied, draining his own glass.

  Louise didn’t ask him what the favour was. She was sure it had nothing to do with the firm of Charlton and Spencer. By the time the meal was ready, James had consumed quite a lot of the whisky. She watched him warily as she picked at her own food. He seemed quite mellow at the moment but she
knew his mood could change in a flash. He looked up and grinned.

  ‘So nice to have my wife back,’ he said. ‘It’s no fun being married to a drooping lily.’

  ‘I wasn’t ill on purpose,’ Louise said.

  ‘Of course not, darling. Well, now you’re better you can start being a proper wife again.’ He stood up and reached out a hand. ‘Come on, let’s go upstairs.’

  Reluctantly, she followed him. It was the last thing she wanted. While she’d been preparing the meal she hadn’t been able to stop shivering despite the whisky and now her head was pounding. James ignored her protests, determined to exert what he called his rights.

  She felt so ill she didn’t have the strength to fight him off, even if she’d been brave enough to do so. Although he’d never beaten her, preferring to use words rather than blows, she sensed the underlying violence in him. She often thought that it wouldn’t take much for him to lose control.

  By the next day, the chill had taken hold. Louise tried to carry on as usual but eventually had to give in and go back to bed. It wasn’t like the fever she’d had before but she felt wretched for almost a week.

  To her surprise, instead of becoming impatient, James was most solicitous, dosing her with cough mixture and managing to find tempting treats for her to eat. She was in no state to ask how he’d managed it with rationing becoming more stringent than ever. She’d often suspected he was dealing on the black market.

  When she started to feel better she struggled out of bed and made her way downstairs. The kitchen was a mess and she wondered how someone as fastidious as James could leave things in such a state. However, if he knew she was well enough to get up, he would insist on her resuming her housekeeping duties. She made a cup of tea and sat down. She’d clear up the kitchen in a little while. It was comforting to lean back in Cookie’s old rocking chair and daydream about happier times.