EIGHTEEN

She had to talk to Lalla – she was sure that she had been standing there, in the kitchen doorway, for a few moments before she entered and remarked on the sky. If Lalla thought that there was something going on between Angel and Rob – well, it made a mockery of what she, Angel, had said yesterday on the beach, when they exchanged confidences. There was something else she could not put out of her mind, also. As the three of them had gone upstairs again, Lalla had paused, allowed Angel to go on up by herself, and Angel had heard her say quietly to Rob, as he opened his door, ‘May I come in again, Rob? I need to tell you something – I wanted to, last night – but . . . ’ Rob had barely hesitated before he replied, ‘Of course.’ Then he called softly after Angel’s retreating back, ‘Goodnight to ye, Angel. Sleep well the rest of the night.’

Naturally, she had done no such thing. She tapped now on Lalla’s door, imagining her to be sitting up in bed finishing off her breakfast. Alice and Tony were making toast in the kitchen. It seemed a good time.

‘Come in,’ Lalla answered.

She was standing by the washstand, a towel round her shoulders, another, wrapped like a sarong round her narrow waist. Without her makeup, her face was pale, the luscious curved lips almost bloodless.

‘Oh, I must apologise, Lalla, I’ll come back later –’ Angel faltered, taking in the untouched breakfast tray on the chair.

‘No, please stay. I know why you’ve come,’ Lalla told her. ‘Don’t worry, Angel, I saw and heard enough to know that, well, last night – you and Rob – it was all perfectly innocent. Anyway, who am I to judge?’ Angel sensed the bitterness behind those words.

Then Lalla let the towel round her top-half drop: she stood there, facing Angel, naked and vulnerable, revealing what the loose clothes had concealed, the swelling and distortion of her left breast. ‘You see?’ she appealed to Angel.

‘Yes, I can see,’ Angel managed, her eyes wide with pity and shock.

‘Come closer,’ Lalla asked. ‘I would value your opinion: it is what I fear, isn’t it? I have ignored it for too long and it is too late, isn’t it? D’you see, now, Angel, just why I came back to see the children – Rob?’

‘I understand, Lalla and I am so very sorry – any doctor would confirm, I believe, your self-diagnosis . . . ’ Two strides across the room, and she retrieved the towel, covered Lalla, compassionately. Now it was her turn to put her arms round one who was desperately afraid, to hold Lalla close. ‘Have you seen a doctor?’ She knew instinctively that Lalla had not. She felt the shuddering, almost the pain suffered by this woman.

‘What is the point? The only answer would be surgery, I couldn’t come to terms with that. Didn’t you notice how I felt about Alice’s terrible disfigurement? It is not only that I am not brave enough to face the knife – I am too vain, Angel. I have always exulted in my looks, my body . . . Gerald had to know, of course – now, he seems loving, supportive, but –’ she assayed a wry smile. ‘I expect him to abandon me, when the time comes. He has no patience with the imperfect.’

‘Stay here,’ Angel pleaded. ‘I could care for you – you would be with those who love you. Rob still cares, anyone can see that –’

‘I don’t intend to allow my children to see me, as I will become, Angel. That is why I thought of Australia – so far away – impossible to visit . . . I’m not being noble, I’m being selfish – I want them to remember me as I was, as I seem to be, right now.’

‘Did you tell – Rob – last night?’

‘Only that I was going to a drier climate for my health – that I might not make old bones, which he refused to believe. I told him I would always keep in touch, but that he should find someone else to share his life. Don’t worry, I did not mention your name!’

‘I am grateful for that, Lalla.’

‘I want you to forget what you have seen, Angel. Promise me you will say nothing – I am going away tomorrow, sooner than I intended. The children will be disappointed, I will have let them down yet again, but – I can’t keep up the pretence.’

‘If I promise, in return you must write to the children as often as you can . . . ’

‘You must amend that to, for as long as I can. I am not thinking in terms of weeks, or even months. I am fatalistic, Angel. I need a further promise from you, I want you to be here, when the time comes.’

‘I promise. Whatever you may think – you are brave.’ Angel told her simply.

‘Thank you!’ Lalla turned back to the basin of cooling water. ‘Will you take the tray – explain that I feel a little sick, due to yesterday’s overdose of sun, eh, – say I am off my food, please? I will be down shortly, then we’ll take the children shopping – and leave Rob and Aunt Hetty in peace . . . ’

*

‘We’ll open up at lunchtime, shall we, Rob?’ Aunt Hetty asked, as the others made ready for the outing to town.

‘We might as well,’ he answered slowly.

Perhaps he would have liked to have been included in the shopping party, Angel thought, but it would be easier without him – the sooner life resumed as normal, the better.

It was obvious that Alice and Tony were still unaware of their mother’s imminent departure, though Aunt Hetty had whispered to Angel that Rob had told her. They laughed and sang as the motor sped along, and Alice said, ‘Not as luxurious as Lady Pamela’s Rolls, but isn’t the motor the most wonderful invention, Lalla?’

Angel mused to herself that she liked the rides in the trap, with Rob beside her, holding the reins, just as much.

They waved to those they swept past in the lane: to Edith, first of all, as she pedalled on her bicycle to Mrs Newsome’s shop; to Edmund, turning in at the school gate; and to Will, busy in the Big House garden. And there was Jess, waiting by The Cotts, as if she knew they’d be passing, with Belinda held up in her arms to see, smiling and waving back. ‘See you tomorrer!’ she called cheerfully. The holiday was drawing to a close for all of them, it seemed.

Boxes piled between the children: Tony had been kitted out, too. Lalla was certainly not short of money. ‘You don’t need those thick stockings in the summer, let the air get to your legs – wear cotton socks!’ she told Alice. She stuffed the stockings in her bag, ‘I’ll answer to Aunt Hetty for you!’

Tony was overwhelmed with his giant box of paints: the sable brushes pointed fine and thick; sketch blocks in several sizes; charcoal and chalks; Indian ink and mapping pens; and pencils and squidgy pink rubbers. ‘You shall be an artist, Tony – if I have my way!’ Lalla cried, her eyes sparkling.

To the bookshop next, and Alice, given carte blanche, was soon in a transport of dreamy delight. ‘Choose as many books as you like – why not?’ Lalla called after her daughter, already engrossed in the crowded shelves. ‘Will you wait with her, in here, Angel? Tony and I have another shop to visit. We’ll be back within the hour – anyway, you’ll have plenty to occupy you, won’t you?’

They actually returned empty-handed, and Tony, looking smug, was obviously hugging a secret to himself.

‘Fifteen – look, Lalla!’ Alice indicated the pile of books on the counter, ‘I hope it’s not too many –’

‘Wrap them, please!’ Lalla instructed the bemused bookseller.

Lunch was merely a sticky bun and a glass of milk apiece, for they were all too excited from their shopping spree to want more.

Back at The Angel, Aunt Hetty had prepared a large meal, so perhaps it was just as well they had eaten sparingly, earlier. She had roasted a rabbit – the children were given the delicacy reserved for the young – the ‘lantern’ or ribs, to pick off the tender pinkish meat clinging to the bones. There was a light sponge pudding to follow: ‘How do you get them so airy?’ Angel marvelled, as like Alice and Tony she dribbled threads of golden syrup over her portion.

‘I beat the eggs with a splash of cold water – that’s all.’ beamed Aunt Hetty.

After supper, Aunt Hetty hurried off to open up the bar, Angel and Tony washed up, and Alice went into the parlour with her mother to wrap some presents, which Angel guessed were for Rob and Aunt Hetty.

Rob said quietly to Angel, as he, too, prepared to go to work, ‘Lalla has told you – about tomorrow?’

She paused in the scraping of the plates: ‘Yes, Rob.’

‘Life is full of disappointments,’ he said. Then was gone.

It was an evening filled with music from the gramophone, when Tony and Angel joined the others in the parlour. The muted sounds from the public bar drifted over. Alice and Tony cuddled close to Lalla on the sofa while she made them giggle over stories of all the eccentric folk she encountered on her travels in the artistic communities of Europe. Angel sat a little apart, writing a long letter to Lou, telling her of all that had happened since she returned to Suffolk, apart from sharing Lalla’s confidences to her. She did not wish to intrude.

In the morning, Rob silently carried Lalla’s luggage down to the motor – Alice and Tony, both tearful, clung to her, begging her to stay longer. She disengaged herself gently; over their heads, her eyes met Angel’s troubled gaze. ‘Time to go . . . ’ Lalla said.

The children clung now to Aunt Hetty, so constant in their lives, while Angel returned the warm pressure of Lalla’s handshake, and said her goodbye to someone she, too, would not forget.

As Rob held out his own hand, Lalla flung her arms round him, raised her face and kissed him soundly. Angel had to turn away, as she saw his arms convulsively enfold her.

‘Wave, children. Make sure you have a smile on your face –’ Aunt Hetty cleared her throat. Lalla’s farewell gift nestled in her apron pocket.

The motor moved off slowly, Lalla squeezed the horn as she manoeuvred it round, gathered momentum, down the lane.

A hand touched Angel’s shoulder, ‘Will you rock Belinda for me, a bit, Nurse? I must get on,’ Jess said, just as if she knew that Angel needed an excuse to leave the family on their own for a while.