Charles was relieved that the positions of cook and two cleaners had been filled, but now his mind was on more serious matters. When he’d gone to see Jessica the previous evening she still wasn’t there. Instead of anger he was now worried sick and feared that something had befallen her, perhaps an accident, but he was floundering. He didn’t want to risk his name being associated with her, so couldn’t report her missing. Too many questions would be asked, such as how he knew Jessica and what his relationship to her was.
‘Are you going out today, Daddy?’ Constance asked as they sat eating the breakfast served to them by Mary.
‘Yes, and I won’t be back until this evening.’
‘It will feel strange having a new cook and cleaner next week.’
‘Yes, and with that in mind I’ve decided that while I’m still providing for you and you’re living in this house, you might as well make yourself useful. When the new staff arrive I want you to keep a supervisory eye on them. Make sure that the cleaner doesn’t cut corners and that Cook is informed of our food preferences. Your mother always checked the household accounts to ensure that no unnecessary food or provisions were ordered, and though you will only be here for a few more weeks, I’d like you to do the same.’
‘Very well, Daddy.’
Charles finished his meal and then, saying an abrupt goodbye, he put on his coat and hat and left the house. He had two appointments that morning, and then after visiting Hettie he would go to see if Jessica had returned.
As soon as her father left, Constance went down to the basement and said to Ethel, ‘It’s safe for you to go out. My father won’t be back until this evening.’
‘Oh, thank you, Miss.’
‘Ethel, I thought we’d agreed to drop the formalities.’
‘Yes, sorry, love. We’re just going to have a cuppa before we leave, so why don’t you join us?’
‘Thanks, I will,’ Constance said and pulled out a chair to sit at the table. ‘My father has asked me to keep an eye on the new staff and to check the household accounts. I haven’t got a clue where to start.’
‘I’m not sure if I can help, only to tell you that I give your mother all the receipts for the provisions I’ve ordered. I don’t know what she does with them.’
‘She probably enters them in some sort of account book. I’ll see if I can find it,’ Constance said, and then her emotions came to the fore again. ‘Oh, Ethel, I know I’ve said this before, but I’m going to miss you so much.’
‘And I’ll miss you. I meant it when I said you’re welcome to visit me at any time. Mind you, if Albie or my daughter tell you what I did in the past, you may not want to see me again.’
‘Why? What did you do?’
‘I can’t tell you, love. I’m too ashamed. But if you hear about it I hope you won’t judge me too harshly. It’s the only bad thing I’ve ever done, and I’ll regret it to my dying day.’
Constance guessed it must be something really bad for both Albie and his mother to cut Ethel out of their lives. She reached across the table to grasp the woman’s hand and said, ‘My father is cutting me out of his life too so I know how awful that feels. You have shown me nothing but kindness so no matter what I’m told, it will not keep me away from you.’
‘Oh, Miss,’ Ethel said as tears pooled in her eyes.
Mary frowned when she walked into the kitchen. ‘What’s the matter, Ethel? What’s going on?’
‘It’s nothing,’ Ethel assured her, ‘we’ve just been reminiscing, that’s all. Now come on, I’ll pour you a cup of tea and then we’d best get going. That bedding won’t buy itself.’
Constance finished her tea and then stood up. ‘I hope you manage to get everything you need, but now I’ll go and see if I can find my mother’s household accounts.’
‘What is it you’re looking for?’ Mary asked.
‘Some sort of account book.’
‘You might find one in your mother’s little desk.’
‘Mary!’ Ethel exclaimed. ‘You must have been digging in drawers to know that.’
‘I … I wasn’t digging. I … I was putting something away.’
Constance noticed Mary’s pink cheeks and thought that maybe her father’s instruction to keep a supervisory eye on the new cleaner wasn’t such a bad idea. She didn’t think that Mary would ever have stolen anything – it was probably more a case of nosiness. Saying goodbye, Constance went upstairs, hoping that at least Mary was right and she’d find her mother’s account book in her desk.
Later that morning, with his appointments dealt with, Charles drove to the hospital, where he was told that his wife’s consultant wanted to speak to him. He went to the man’s office and after being instructed to go in by his secretary, Charles found him sitting behind his desk.
‘Do sit down, Mr Burton Blake.’
Charles frowned as he pulled out a chair and asked as he sat, ‘Is my wife all right?’
‘She remains stable, but I’m afraid there are no indications of recovery. If nothing changes by next week I would suggest you consider taking her home. She will need care, but perhaps familiar surroundings will stimulate her recovery.’
‘Will she need full-time nursing care? If she does I will have to find a nurse who is willing to live in.’
‘I don’t think that will be necessary. Your wife needs to be kept clean, fed and have help with her ablutions, but these are tasks that don’t have to be done by a nurse. A daily carer would be fine and if you have any concerns, you can call your family doctor.’
‘Very well,’ Charles said, reflecting that he’d have to get onto an agency again. ‘I’ll make arrangements to put her care in place and then take her home.’
‘Many stroke patients show improvement and some go on to make a full recovery. I’m sorry this hasn’t happened in your wife’s case.’
‘Are you telling me that my wife will never recover?’
‘No, Mr Burton Blake, I’m not saying that. There is always hope. However, one needs to be realistic.’
Charles rose to his feet, shook the man’s hand and then left. Hope, what good was that? he thought, his mood low as he realised that his wife might always be an invalid. God, he needed Jessica, needed the comfort of her arms, and, hoping that she had at last returned, Charles drove to Battersea.
‘Eric, I feel a lot better today and should go to my flat to pack my things, but what if Charles is there?’
‘He needs to be told that you’re with me now, but you needn’t worry, Daisy,’ Eric said. ‘I’ll be with you. You’re not up to lugging suitcases around yet.’
‘I don’t want to face Charles, so I’m hoping he won’t be there and I can leave him a letter to explain.’
‘Yeah, all right, but are you sure you’re up to going out?’
‘I’ll manage. I look a mess and need clean clothes, nighties and underwear, not to mention my cosmetics.’
‘All right, but wait here while I find us a taxi.’
Jessica willingly agreed. In truth she still felt dreadful, but with the prospect of leaving the country on the horizon, she wanted to collect her things from the flat, especially her jewellery. It would provide a little nest egg, a buffer in case Eric’s plan didn’t come to fruition.
She prayed that when his friend returned from Spain tomorrow it would be with good news. The thought of leaving Britain for a new life was wonderful. She would no longer have to constantly look over her shoulder in fear of her father, yet even as this thought crossed her mind, she realised that if they didn’t go to Spain, as Eric’s wife she’d have nothing to fear. He would never let her father hurt her again.
‘Right, Princess, your carriage awaits,’ Eric quipped when he returned.
‘Princess? That’s a new one,’ she said, smiling through her pain as she slowly followed Eric downstairs.
He grinned at her over his shoulder, but something in her face must have alerted him and he abruptly turned to pick her up.
‘It’s all right,’ she protested. ‘I can walk.’
‘Don’t kid a kidder, love. I can see you’re in pain,’ and with that he carried her out of the house and into the waiting taxi.
It didn’t take long to reach their destination, and after Eric paid the fare, Jessica opened the door to the flat with trepidation. The thing she’d been dreading most happened as soon as they walked into the front room.
‘Jessica, I’ve been so worried about you,’ Charles said. ‘Thank the lord you’re back, but what happened to you?’
‘I had a bit of an accident.’
‘Yes, I can see that. Have you been in hospital?’
‘No, I’ve been staying with Eric. He’s been looking after me.’
‘That’s good to hear, but couldn’t you have got word to me?’
‘Look, enough of the interrogation,’ Eric said. ‘We’re only here to pick up Daisy’s stuff.’
‘Daisy?’ Charles asked, confused.
‘That’s my real name, Charles. I changed it when I left my parents’ home.’
‘I see, but aren’t you well enough to stay here?’
‘Charles, I’m moving out and I won’t be coming back.’
‘Moving out? But why?’
‘Because it’s over between us. I’m sorry, but I’m with Eric now and we’re getting married.’
‘But Eric is your brother,’ Charles said, his expression one of bewilderment.
‘No, Charles, he isn’t.’
Charles frowned, digesting this, and then said, ‘So, you lied to me.’
‘Yes, I’m afraid so.’
Bewilderment was replaced by anger as he growled, ‘It seems you’ve been making a fool of me, seeing this man behind my back. You’re nothing but a common slut.’
‘Watch your mouth or you might find yourself swallowing your teeth,’ Eric threatened.
‘Get out of my flat – both of you. Now!’ Charles shouted with bravado.
‘Not until she’s packed her things,’ Eric snapped.
‘I paid for everything she has, clothes, jewellery and anything else she possesses. Jessica took great pleasure in charging everything to my Harrods account card.’
‘Yeah, but you got your money’s worth out of her in bed, you dirty old git,’ Eric snapped. ‘Daisy, go and pack your cases and I’ll see that he doesn’t stop you.’
Daisy walked to the bedroom, her body still racked with pain, but she managed to pack two cases, cramming clothes in until they were full, and leaving behind things she hadn’t worn for ages. She then shuffled across the room to get her jewellery box and managed to stuff the contents down the side of a case, before doing the same with her perfume and some of her cosmetics. ‘Eric,’ she called, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to lift the cases.
‘Yeah, I’m here,’ he said, and dragged the cases from the bed and through to the front room.
‘I could report you to the police for theft,’ Charles said to Daisy with more obvious bravado.
‘Yeah, you do that,’ Eric retorted. ‘I’d like to see their faces when you report that your mistress has left you, taking all the things you willingly bought her.’
‘You … you …’ Charles snarled.
‘Please, Eric, can we just go?’ Daisy said, looking close to tears.
‘Yeah, come on then,’ he agreed.
She turned to look at Charles and said, ‘I was hoping we could part amicably. After all, I was just your mistress and I’m sure I’m replaceable.’
‘Just go,’ he ordered imperiously.
Daisy said no more and turned to follow Eric, her movements painful. It was done with, over, and now she could put it all behind her. A new life with Eric lay ahead, and one day soon she would become his wife.