Captain Matthew Winter didn’t make it to his uncle’s funeral, a fact much lamented by Rose Winter, who took her nephew’s absence as a personal slight.
Her resentment, however, vanished three days later when Matthew arrived on the doorstep, dishevelled and unannounced, and deeply distressed at not being able to say goodbye to the uncle who had taken him under his wing at such an early age.
For the past two days Emily had been forced to witness the nauseating attention bestowed on the distraught man by Cynthia Denton, who appeared to have made it her goal in life to dog the uniformed man’s every move.
Now Matthew’s compassionate leave was over. He just had time to stay to hear the reading of the will, but what with Cynthia fawning over him, and his aunt’s constant demands for attention, the hapless man resorted to the only solace that had seen him through the past forty-eight hours; he sought refuge in the kitchen, and in Emily’s company.
‘Oh, good morning, Captain Winter. You startled me. I didn’t hear you come in.’ Emily was bending over the hot stove, a tray of scones in her hands. Shoving the baking tray into the fierce heat of the oven, she closed the door carefully and straightened up, a welcoming smile on her flushed face. ‘Sit down, sir, and I’ll make you a pot of tea. I was about to take a tray up to Miss Rose, if you would prefer to take your morning tea with your aunt.’
‘Good Lord, no,’ the hasty refusal burst from his lips. ‘I mean, well… Oh, look here, Emily, I know it’s a dreadful thing to say, but if I spend another moment upstairs I won’t be responsible for my actions.’ Pulling out a chair, he lowered his long frame easily onto the hard seat.
Emily smiled at him in understanding.
‘I know. Poor Miss Rose. She’s hardly slept a wink since the funeral. She was all right up till then. In fact, I was amazed at how calm she was after your uncle’s death. Dr Green said she was in shock at the time, and it seems he was right.’ Placing a china cup in front of Matthew, she added sadly, ‘He was a lovely man, and I miss him dreadfully. The house won’t be the same without him.’
‘I know. Not that I’d seen much of him or Aunt Rose over the past few years, but it was always a comfort knowing he was here if I needed him. He was a grand old boy and, like you say, he’ll be sorely missed.’
Nodding silently, Emily carried on with her tasks, unaware that her every move was being watched with loving, yet sorrowful, eyes.
Matthew rested his hands, palms upwards, on the table, throwing his mind back two days. Even now he couldn’t honestly say which had come as the greater shock: finding out that he had missed the funeral of his dearly loved uncle, or discovering that his beloved Emily was pregnant. He had assumed, in those first gut-wrenching moments, that she had married during his absence. A hasty marriage too, by the look of it.
Cynthia had soon put him right on that score. In fact, she had taken great delight in telling him that their maid had got herself into trouble, with no future husband on the horizon. Their maid. The cheek of the woman! He didn’t know her very well, having only met her on a few previous occasions in the past, but, judging by these past couple of days, hers wasn’t an acquaintance that he felt eager to renew. He wasn’t a man to make judgments lightly, always preferring to look for the good in people, but as far as he could see, Cynthia Denton was a scheming, conniving bitch of the first order, who from the very moment of his arrival had made it embarrassingly obvious that she was interested in him. He squirmed uncomfortably at the thought.
He was at a loss to understand why his aunt and uncle had ever allowed the creature house-room, though his late uncle would have been loath to ask the woman to leave, always preferring a quiet life. Still, Matthew was surprised to find his aunt so smitten with this far-flung relative. Perhaps it was because she was still in shock. Even so, from what he had seen, Cynthia Denton seemed to have inveigled her way into the old woman’s affection, and as the former had made no secret of her dislike for the maid, as she sneeringly put it, where did that leave Emily, now that his uncle was no longer around to protect her interests? Unless, of course, the old boy had made a new will recently. Ah, well, the family’s solicitor would be arriving today for the reading of the will, so he and Emily would find out how the land lay soon enough.
‘Would you like something to eat with your tea, sir? I could make you some toast, or a sandwich if you prefer. Lunch will be late today, what with the solicitor coming this morning.’
‘What! Oh, no, thank you, Emily. The breakfast you gave me was quite ample.’
As she smiled and moved away, Matthew said haltingly, ‘Emily!’
‘Yes, sir?’
‘Damn. Sorry, Emily, but I wish you’d drop this “sir” business, at least when we’re alone. You make me feel like some damned relic from Victorian times.’ When Emily smiled shyly, it was all he could do to stop himself leaping from the chair and taking her into his arms. There was so much he wanted to know. For instance, where was the father of the unborn child she was carrying so proudly? And, more importantly, did he intend marrying her? Because if the father wasn’t interested, then he certainly was. Oh, Lord, what was he thinking! Emily had made it painfully clear that she didn’t look on him in that way. And would he be prepared to take on another man’s child? The answer came back swiftly. Yes, a thousand times yes. If the mother came willingly, he would take on a whole brood of fatherless brats.
He took a mouthful of the piping-hot tea, then, remembering Emily’s conversation of last night, said, ‘About Lenny, Emily. I wish there was something I could do, but I’m afraid…’ He spread his hands wide in a gesture of helplessness.
‘Oh, sir… I mean, Matthew,’ she smiled shyly, ‘don’t be silly. I know there’s nothing you can do for him. I shouldn’t have mentioned it, it’s just that my mum knew you’d be coming home and… Well, you see, she seems to think that the entire British Army is camped in one place over there and, being an officer, it would be easy for you to find him and send him home.’ She looked away, embarrassed at troubling him with her problems when the poor man had enough of his own.
Draining his cup, Matthew sighed, his hand running absently through his mass of dark hair.
‘Well now, Emily, your mother’s not that far from the truth, because it’s a madhouse out there, a bloody shambles. Regiments and battalions being pushed further and further back, until some of them are meeting up with the new arrivals. Nobody seems to be where they should, and the wounded are fast outnumbering the able-bodied. It’s chaos, complete and utter, bloody chaos.’
Emily lowered her gaze, uneasily aware that she had unwillingly evoked memories of the war, when the Captain should have been resting and forgetting, at least for his short leave, the carnage he had left behind and would soon be returning to.
Seeing her discomfort, Matthew reached out and took hold of Emily’s hand and said warmly, ‘Don’t look so downcast, my dear. It’s only natural you should be worried about your brother. I only wish I had the power to help. I like Lenny, and rest assured that if our paths do cross, I’ll do everything I can to see he is safely returned home.’
A bell tinkled overhead, interrupting Emily as she was about to answer. Glancing up at the wall clock, she exclaimed, ‘Goodness, he’s early. The solicitor, I mean,’ she said by way of explanation to Matthew. ‘He wasn’t due to arrive until twelve-thirty.’ Removing her apron, she flashed a bright smile and left Matthew staring forlornly after her.
God, Emily, if you only knew the effect you have on me, you wouldn’t smile so readily.
Out on the hall landing, Emily paused for a moment to tuck a wisp of chestnut hair behind her ear before opening the door.
‘Morning, Miss. I’ve come ter see Mrs Denton. She’s expecting me.’ The shabbily dressed woman stared at Emily’s puzzled face, afraid for a minute that she’d got the wrong address. When Emily remained mute, the woman clasped an equally shabby handbag more firmly, seeming to take comfort from the inanimate object. ‘It’s about the job, Miss – for a live-in help,’ the woman added as Emily continued to bar her way. ‘Mrs Denton wrote ter me an’ asked me ter start terday.’
‘I’ll deal with this, Miss Ford. Please, go about your duties.’ Cynthia, a satisfied smirk on her face, pushed Emily to one side while extending a welcoming hand to the relieved-looking woman on the doorstep.
‘Fank yer, Miss. Fanks, ever so much. I’m much obliged.’
Realising what was happening, Emily turned sharply on her heels and made her way back to the kitchen, her cheeks flaming with anger.
‘Emily, what’s wrong! Sit down, dear, you look dreadful.’ Matthew had risen from his chair in concern. Brushing past him, Emily bent down and pulled open the oven door, burying her head in the intense heat to hide her agitated state.
‘Nothing’s wrong, sir. Just that infuriating woman up to her tricks again.’ The muffled reply brought a look of puzzlement to Matthew’s face.
As suddenly as Emily’s anger had appeared, so it vanished. Examining the partly baked scones, she pushed the tray back into the oven and said wryly, ‘I’m sorry, Matthew. I don’t know why I let myself be riled by that woman.’
The sound of his name on her tongue brought a sudden, glorious lift to Matthew’s heart.
Oblivious to the officer’s state of mind, Emily chatted on.
‘Ever since she came here, she’s been trying to turn your aunt and uncle against me. She was subtle at first, because of course she realised that she needed me to stay. I can’t imagine Her Ladyship getting down on her knees to black-lead the grate, can you? Although from what your aunt told me, Mrs Denton was nothing less than a skivvy herself at her parents’ home. But she certainly hasn’t dirtied her hands since arriving here.’
Coming closer Emily leant her head towards Matthew, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. Nodding her head towards the door she added, ‘That was the new live-in maid. Well, I say that, but she won’t have been hired yet, nor will she be – at least not without Miss Rose consulting me first. In fact…’ a grin spread her lips even wider, ‘Mrs Denton may have done me a favour. You see, your uncle and aunt have been trying to get me some cleaning help since the war started. But that crafty piece thinks that if she finds someone to live in, there’ll be no use for me, but that’s where she’s wrong. Any additional staff were always sought to help me in the house, not to replace me. Besides which, as far as I know, Cynthia Denton has no authority to hire staff. Oh, I know she’s been spending a lot of time with your aunt this past week, and I know Miss Rose has been looking to her for support. Because as much as I would have liked to be with her more often, I simply haven’t had the time to give her the attention she’s been craving. Obviously your relative has assumed airs of grandeur, if she thinks she can hire and fire at will. Because that’s what she’s been after. To get rid of me, and get her hooks into… Oh… Oh dear…’
This time it was Matthew’s turn to smile.
‘It’s all right, Emily. I know what you were about to say. Good Lord, I’ve never seen myself as a latter-day Lothario, but I’d have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to realise what the blasted woman is after.’ And of course she would want you out of the way, my love, he added silently. Because what man would ever give Cynthia a second look with you on the horizon?
They exchanged a friendly, conspiratorial look, before Matthew reluctantly left Emily to get on with her work.
The solicitor had been and gone, thankful that for once he hadn’t had to contend with hordes of relatives squabbling over the last will and testament of their dearly departed loved one.
Emily sat alone in the kitchen, mystified and hurt that she hadn’t been asked to attend the reading. She was aware that she wouldn’t have been mentioned in it, as the will had been made long before she had entered the Winters’ employment. Even so…! For the first time she questioned her position in this house. Miss Rose could have had Emily present if she had wished for her company at such a distressing time.
‘Oh, stop being so sorry for yourself, lady,’ Emily chastised herself in the empty kitchen. ‘You know full well how Mr George felt about you. It wasn’t his fault he left it too late to change his will. Miss Rose will see that you’re taken care of, so stop worrying. It’s all the upset of this past week, that’s all. So don’t go getting yourself all wound up and saying something that you’ll regret later on. That’s exactly what that odious woman wants.’ But still the uneasy gnawing in the pit of her stomach continued.
The sound of raised voices from upstairs brought Emily’s head swivelling round. Her mouth suddenly dry, she stood up and faced the closed door, waiting for it to open – waiting for…!
Doors slammed overhead, then running footsteps thundered down the stairs before stopping outside the kitchen. Emily waited, her heart hammering at an alarming speed inside her chest.
Then Matthew was standing in the doorway, his face filled with a multitude of expressions. Anger, pain, but most of all, shame.
Wetting her parched lips, Emily asked quietly, ‘What is it, sir? What’s happened?’
Hanging his head Matthew groaned.
‘Oh, Emily. Oh, my dear, dear, Emily.’
Some part of her being recognised the depth of feeling in the words, but the practical side of Emily’s nature came to the fore.
‘I asked you a question, sir.’
Before Matthew could answer, another voice, familiar and jubilant, filled the air.
‘I can tell you that, Miss Ford. Your services are no longer required. You are, of course, entitled to a week’s notice. Please be advised that that notice is hereby served.’
The words resounded inside Emily’s confused head. This couldn’t be happening; it must be a mistake. Mr George had always told her she would be well cared for as long as she remained in their employment, and his sister had echoed those sentiments; not once, but many times over the years. And she had remained, hadn’t she? Even though she had been bored and had wanted to be more in life than simply a paid drudge, she had stopped on, out of affection for them both. Even after last week, when her mother had again offered to look after the baby while Emily found another job – a job that would offer excitement, as well as more money, a job where she could have worked with people of her own age. And still Emily had refused, had almost thrown the unselfish offer back in her mother’s face.
All right, so she hadn’t relished the prospect of sharing a roof with Doris – a sullen, resentful figure who had slammed out of the house the day Emily had gone home to tell her mother that Mr Winter had died. But most of all Emily had stayed on out of loyalty and a genuine affection for the elderly couple. And this was her reward!
There must be some mistake, because if there wasn’t, then her faith in human decency would be shattered for ever. But wait a minute. Why had the Denton woman waited until now to sack her – why today?
‘My late cousin made no provision for you, Miss Ford. We, that is my aunt and I, thought that George might have amended his will over the years, but apparently not. And that being so, there really is no reason for you to stay any longer. The new help seems quite capable, though if you wish you may stay on for a few more days to help her settle into the routine of the house. That option is entirely up to you. I’m sure my aunt won’t see you turned out penniless into the street, though I shouldn’t set my sights too high, if I were you. Rose has become very concerned with self-preservation lately, and of course that includes the money necessary to ensure that she has the best of comfort in her twilight years.’ But Emily was no longer listening.
As she moved towards the stairs, she heard Matthew say in a tone she’d never heard him use before, ‘Will you shut your spiteful mouth, woman. And you can wipe that smug look off your face. Because I’ll tell you this now. Despite your success with my aunt – and God knows how you managed that, because she’s loved Emily like one of her own – despite your scheming efforts, you are going to be disappointed. Because if Aunt Rose won’t take responsibility for Emily’s future, and that of her child, then I will. I’m not without my own resources. And furthermore I won’t, as I imagine you’d hoped, be moving in here after the war. I have my own home to return to. That’s if I come back, and…’
Emily slowly climbed the stairs, still unable to believe that dreadful woman’s words, even though Matthew hadn’t actually refuted them.
Once outside Miss Rose’s room, Emily hesitated, suddenly reluctant to hear, from her dear friend, what, in her heart she knew to be the truth.
Rose Winter lay on top of her four-poster bed feigning sleep. But, as Emily drew nearer, the wrinkled eyelids began to flutter in nervous agitation.
‘Miss Rose. Miss Rose, please, I have to talk to you.’ The frail body began to quiver as the eyelids slowly opened. But the faded blue eyes shifted nervously, unable to meet Emily’s direct gaze. ‘Is it true – what Mrs Denton tells me? Have I been dismissed? Because if so, then it’s a cruel reward for all the years I’ve spent in your employ. Not the actual dismissal, though I can still hardly believe you would cast me aside so coldly, but the way in which it has been done. The subterfuge involved wasn’t worthy of you, though I can still hardly believe that you waited until you were sure Mr George hadn’t made a new will in which I would have been provided for… Oh, yes, Miss Rose, you can look all sorrowful, but it’s the truth, isn’t it? Even so, I would have thought that after all this time you would at least have had the decency to tell me yourself.’
‘Really, Miss Ford. You are overstepping the grounds of familiarity in speaking to your employer in such a disrespectful manner. Remember your place, girl.’
Cynthia Denton had entered the room. Crossing swiftly to the bed, she took hold of the trembling hand and stared across at Emily, her eyes hard and jeering.
The woman’s triumphant expression was bad enough, but it was the way in which Rose Winter grabbed the comforting hand and held onto it, totally ignoring Emily’s presence, that caused the last vestiges of her patience to break.
‘I was talking to the organ-grinder, not the monkey,’ she snapped back angrily. Coming closer, Emily looked down at the wrinkled face and said calmly, ‘People told me I was a fool to stay on here, when I could easily have found a job with more money, and prospects. But I wouldn’t listen. You see, I thought you cared for me as a friend, a part of the family. God knows you told me so often enough. Or was that merely a ploy to keep me here? How many times did you suspect I was becoming restless? What did you do then? Think up a way of keeping me here? Did you conspire with Mr George? No, I can’t believe that of him.’ She shook her head slowly. ‘Did you rack your brains for inducements, like the old clothes from the attic that I was so grateful for, or more words of praise and assurances of how much I meant to you both?’
Rose Winter’s eyes brimmed with tears as she started to speak.
‘That isn’t so, Emily. Everything I said was true. You are…’
‘There, there, Aunt Rose, don’t upset yourself.’ Cynthia hastily cut off her aunt’s trembling words. God! She hadn’t spent these last months, and especially the last few days, grovelling and worming her way into the old dear’s heart just to have it all come to nothing at this late stage.
‘Let her speak. Let her say what she really feels. Because I’m not leaving until Miss Rose tells me, to my face, that she doesn’t want me here any more. I’m certainly not going to take your word for it, you hateful, deceitful woman.’ Emily glared at her adversary, then, turning slowly back to the elderly woman, she said softly, ‘If you want me to leave, then I’ll go. I won’t cause a fuss, because I know it’s not your fault. Somehow, this… this creature has turned you against me. I want to know how. How, after all we’ve meant to each other, you could turn me out without any explanation.’
A look of uncertainty crossed the lined face, then she felt her hand being squeezed and Miss Rose seemed to gain courage. In a quivering voice she said, ‘I never lied to you, Emily. I did have, that is to say, I still have, a great affection for you. But as Cynthia pointed out to me, once the child is born you won’t have the time to see to your duties – or to me. And I need someone to look after me, Emily. And… and you’re a young woman who will want to get married one day, maybe to the father of your child, whoever he is. I never probed, did I, Emily? I never asked who he was, or condemned you for your indelicate state. I… know I said you could raise the child here, but I spoke hastily, without thinking the matter through. The fact is that I simply couldn’t bear the thought of a young child in the house. All that noise and disruption. I’m old, Emily. I need peace and quiet, and I need family around me.’
Emily’s body slumped. So that was it. The Denton woman had used Miss Rose’s innate fear of being left alone to drive Emily from the house. There was no use in talking any longer. The sooner she got away from here, the better, before she broke down and lashed out with words that she would later regret. Besides, she wouldn’t give that woman the satisfaction of seeing her brought low.
Gathering all her self-possession, Emily lifted her head and stared at the old woman she had loved – still loved, in spite of her disloyalty, and said, ‘Very well, Miss Rose. I won’t argue with you, except to say that I would never have left you alone. Even if I had a husband and half a dozen children around my feet, I would never have deserted you. But that’s all academic now, isn’t it? You’ve made up your mind, or should I say, you’ve had it made up for you. I wish you well, Miss Rose. I loved you and Mr George as if you were my own family, which is why I stayed on here so long. I see now that I was a fool to believe you felt the same way. I hope you have a long and happy life, though with the company you have chosen to see you through it, I very much doubt it. Goodbye, Miss Rose.’
She walked sedately from the room, her head held high, but once out on the landing she let her chin fall and fought back the tears that were stinging her eyes.
Behind her she could hear soft weeping, but she hardened her heart. It was no good trying to persuade Miss Rose to change her mind. Cynthia Denton had got her claws in too deep…
Going to her room, Emily was startled to find the shabby woman sitting on her bed with two brown carrier bags by her feet.
Hearing Emily approach, the woman leapt guiltily to her feet.
‘I’m sorry, Miss. That other lady brought me ’ere an’ told me this was where I was gonna be sleeping.’
Emily’s lips tightened. This room had belonged to the previous housekeeper. It was the largest and most comfortable of the servants’ rooms. There were two smaller rooms in the attic, one of which she herself had occupied when she first came to the house, which would have provided adequate accommodation. It was yet another example of the malicious spite in which Cynthia Denton seemed to revel. Emily was surprised to find how calm she was now feeling, and she experienced an urgent need to put this poor woman at ease. After all, it wasn’t her fault.
‘Please, don’t be alarmed. I don’t intend to cause any unpleasantness. If you will wait while I pack my belongings, I’ll get out of your way and let you settle in, Mrs…?’
‘Oh, Lawson, ma’am. Mrs Lawson’s me name.’
Nodding, Emily smiled reassuringly at the nervous woman and began packing her things. Ten minutes later she was ready to go, her movements sedate, almost lethargic. Perhaps she was suffering from the same shock that Miss Rose had experienced after the funeral. Perhaps she should ask Miss Rose for some of the pills Dr Green had prescribed for her. She wasn’t aware she had made any sound until the woman stuttered, ‘Pardon, ma’am. Did yer say somefink?’
Bemused, Emily turned to face her.
‘Did I? How extraordinary. I don’t remember speaking.’ Then, putting out her hand, she said affably, ‘Good luck in your new employment, Mrs Lawson. I hope you’ll be very happy here… By the way, you said you were sleeping in. Well, obviously you are, or you wouldn’t be needing my room. What does Mr Lawson think of your new arrangements?’
The woman was regarding her with puzzled eyes.
‘I’m a widow, ma’am. Me ’usband was killed six months ago.’
‘Of course, how stupid of me, I should have guessed. Well, goodbye again, Mrs Lawson.’ Emily shook the woman’s hand again. ‘And good luck.’ She avoided adding that Mrs Lawson would need it.
Carrying her suitcase, Emily took one last look round the hallway, her eyes straying up the long flight of stairs for the final time. Then she took a deep breath and opened the heavy front door. Descending the stone steps awkwardly, she reached the pavement and paused. It was as if she were waiting for something – or someone – but she didn’t know who.
Shrugging, she lifted her case and began to walk towards the park. Passing through the wrought-iron gate, she rested the suitcase on the grass for a moment before picking it up and walking on. She hadn’t gone more than a few feet when she heard her name being called, and was both surprised and alarmed at the sudden surge of gladness that swept over her.
Lowering the suitcase back onto the grass, Emily waited until Matthew caught up with her.
‘Lord, Emily, I didn’t think you’d leave straight away.’
‘I didn’t think there was anything to stay for,’ she replied much more coolly than she was feeling.
Disconcerted by her aloof manner, Matthew scratched at the back of his head, before hesitantly holding out a large brown envelope.
‘You forgot your wages, plus a week in lieu of notice. Please take it, Emily, it’s the least my aunt could do after the shameful way she’s treated you.’
Taking the envelope from his outstretched hand, Emily uttered a low laugh.
‘I’ve no intention of refusing it, sir. As you say, it’s the least your aunt could do: besides which, I earnt it.’ She was smiling again, smiling and nodding her head to put him at his ease. Yet she didn’t feel like smiling. She wanted to cry – no, not cry, that was too… too…! She wanted to howl, long and loud. And to scream and shout, and behave in the way Cynthia Denton had expected of her. Vulgar and common – she wished she was vulgar and common. She had found that such women were much happier with their lot. Maybe it was because they held nothing back. No silent resentment, no repressed anger. It all came out in a torrent of loud, and often foul, language. It must be wonderful to let go in such a way.
But Emily had been brought up as a lady. And ladies kept their inner feelings locked up inside themselves – to fester and gnaw away at their very soul. Fortunately she had also benefited from her early upbringing in Fenton Street – that, together with Doris’s vociferous company over the years, had instilled in Emily an added strength, a gutter instinct of survival that no well-bred lady could ever hope to understand.
‘Let me drive you home, Emily. You shouldn’t be walking in your condition.’
Now Emily did laugh out loud.
‘Shouldn’t be walking! You do have a sheltered view of life, Matthew. Did you imagine I’ve been lounging around with my feet up these past months? I’ve been awake since six o’clock this morning. I’ve cooked, washed a pile of bedding and hung it out to dry in the garden. I’ve ironed a mountain of clothing, and been down on my knees scrubbing the kitchen and bathroom floors. The last of which I did early this morning. It doesn’t do, you see, to have the hired help littering the house with buckets of dirty water and the like – it sets a bad tone.’
‘Don’t, Emily. Don’t be like this, it doesn’t become you.’
‘Doesn’t become me! What does become me?’ she demanded fiercely. ‘To be thrown out like yesterday’s rubbish? To be cast aside, like so much discarded clothing that is no longer required…?’
A pair of arms enveloped Emily, pulling her close and directing her faltering steps towards a park bench. She didn’t even try to struggle free.
Instead she laid her face on the broad shoulder and wept, quietly at first, then with shuddering sobs. She let free all the hurt and anguish that seemed to be choking her. Between sobs she poured out all that had happened since their last meeting, the disjointed words tumbling over each over in her haste to unburden herself. She told Matthew about her parents, and about the brutal existence that her mother had endured for years. Yet, even as she bared her very soul, there was one piece of information she kept back – the night she had spent in Tommy Carter’s arms. That part of her life was too personal to share with this man – with any man. She simply said that the father was someone she was very fond of, but that she had no intention of marrying him. This piece of information was the only part that had truly concerned Matthew, and his hopes soared again now that he knew there was no immediate rival for Emily’s attentions.
When the spasm had passed, she gently disentangled herself from Matthew’s embrace, embarrassed now at the spectacle she had made of herself. Taking a white handkerchief from the pocket of her blue checked smock, she wiped her eyes and made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a hiccup.
‘Goodness, I am sorry, Captain Winter… I mean, Matthew. It still seems strange calling you by your first name. It’s a shame I won’t have the chance to get used to it.’
‘You could, you know, Emily. Get used to calling me by name, I mean.’
Her eyes widened slightly at the sudden change in Matthew’s tone, and when his hand tightened around her fingers, a light began to push its way forward from the deep recesses of her mind. It appeared to be coming from the long end of a dark tunnel, and it kept coming closer and closer until, with a startled gasp of surprise, the truth exploded into sudden brightness, hitting Emily squarely in the eyes and almost blinding her. She felt her cheeks begin to burn and started to rise clumsily to her feet.
‘I… I must be going, Captain Winter. Thank you for…’
Matthew too had risen, his face and manner seemingly at odds with each other, while he cursed himself for giving the game away. Now wasn’t the time to profess undying love. Not here, where they were in all probability being spied on from the house opposite. And not now, when he wasn’t sure of the future; or even if he had a future. In two hours’ time he would be back on the train to Dover, and by tomorrow he’d be in France. Back among the dirt and squalor, the fighting and the carnage. But whereas before he had been in danger of falling into a state of apathy, now he had hope. Not much, he warned himself. He could return on his next leave and find Emily happily married, but it wasn’t very likely. There weren’t many eligible men around these days, which was doubtless one of the reasons why that flighty piece back at the house had set her cap at him. He guessed that he had been the sole motivation behind Cynthia’s campaign to get rid of Emily. He shuddered inwardly.
God! He would rather face a Hun armed with a bayonet than the prospect of seeing her lying in his bed. But what was he doing standing here like a stuffed dummy, filling his mind with trivial matters when time was so precious?
Emily was standing awkwardly before him, her face pink and averted from his gaze. And suddenly he threw caution and common sense to the wind. This might very well be the last chance he had to tell Emily how he felt.
His heart pounding, and steeling himself for rejection, Matthew placed his hands on Emily’s arms and said softly, ‘I love you, Emily, and have done for some time.’
‘Oh, sir… I…’
‘It’s all right, my dear, there’s no need for you to be frightened. I’m well aware I’m old enough to be your father – well almost,’ He gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘But I wanted you to know that, whatever happens, I’m here for you, no matter what. I don’t expect you to return my feelings. Indeed, I’d be amazed if you did. But will you think about it, Emily? I’d take good care of you, and I’d look on your child as my own. You don’t have to say anything now, but…but, as I say, think about it while I’m away. And… and if you could imagine spending your life with me, then you would make me a very happy man.’
He searched Emily’s face for some sign – anything to show him that she wasn’t completely revolted by the idea of marrying him. Then a sudden thought struck him. He hadn’t mentioned marriage – oh, dear Lord!
With almost comic haste he spluttered, ‘When I say spend your life with me, I meant to say, will you marry me? Good heavens, Emily, I hope you didn’t think I was trying to take advantage of you.’
Now Emily did show a reaction, but not the one he had hoped, for she began to smile, and for an awful, heart-stopping moment he thought she was going to laugh in his face. Instead she laid her hand on his and said gaily, ‘Well, if that was your intention, I would say you were roughly nine months too late.’
His breath exploded in a giant sigh of relief. If she could laugh with him, it was a start. Yes indeed, it was a start. He would say no more on the subject for now – except…
‘Emily, listen. I won’t push you for an answer now. I know it will take you time to come to terms with my proposal, but I want you to know that, whatever your answer, I intend to provide for you… Now, now, don’t argue. This has nothing whatever to do with my feelings for you. I’m doing it because it is what my uncle would have wanted, what he would have done himself, if he’d had more time. And look… he was rummaging in his trouser pocket, and when his hand emerged it was holding a key. This is a spare key to my house in Brixton. You know the address don’t you?’
Emily nodded, unable to speak. It was like a dream. She couldn’t take it in, and yet… Why did she feel so excited? So… so… happy, happy in a way she had never felt before? Oh, she needed her home, her mother, the familiar sights and sounds that would bring her back down into the real world. But Matthew was still talking, and she must hear what else he had to say. Matthew, Matthew. How easily his name came to her mind now. She felt the key being pressed into her hand.
‘Take it, Emily, even though you will probably never have a use for it. It will make me feel better knowing that, whatever happens while I’m away, you need never fear being homeless. And I’ll write to Palmer, the solicitor, as soon as I can, authorising him to send you a weekly sum during my absence. And if you won’t take it for me, then take it for George, for he would have been deeply saddened to see you left without any recompense for all the faithful years you gave him.’
She couldn’t answer, she was too full, too overcome with emotion to think straight right now. And when Matthew took her case and headed back towards the house, she followed him dumbly, like a faithful dog trotting after its master.
Leaving her side just long enough to collect the car keys from the house, Matthew helped the silent woman into the car. Running lightly round to the other side, he got in behind the wheel and started the engine. Then, with a wide grin on his face, he turned his head and waved towards the upstairs window, before releasing the brake and driving off.
Cynthia watched them go, her fingers curling into bunched fists. Letting the net curtain fall, she remained standing, her eyes narrowing into tiny slits of anger.
She had won. That common piece masquerading as a lady had gone. Now she had all the time she needed in which to persuade Rose to sign over the house to her. She would ensure that her cousin didn’t make the same mistake as her brother in failing to make a new will. She should be feeling very relieved and settled. Yet she hadn’t quite got all that she’d hoped for.
Suddenly she turned, the sound of a tinkling bell echoing through the room, the room that had once been Matthew’s on his visits. She could sense his presence in every corner, every part of the room, and at night she snuggled down in contentment in the bed he had occupied for so many years, her fertile imagination conjuring up the man himself to lie by her side. Well, she hadn’t lost him yet. Oh, no, the last battle was far from over, despite the scene she had witnessed from the window. The bell sounded again, more urgently this time, bringing a grimace to her stiff lips. She was about to answer the summons, then she stopped.
Flopping in an unladylike manner across the bed she thought savagely, ‘Let the old cow wait. I’m not her servant.’
Down in the basement Gladys Lawson sat uncomfortably on the single bed, her eyes fixed on the small bell jangling on the opposite wall. She was still waiting for someone to come and explain her duties to her, and was mulling over the angry scenes she had heard and seen in the short time she had been in residence. And when, some ten minutes later, with her nerves at screaming point and the insistent bell still ringing loudly, she placed her hands over her ears and wondered nervously what sort of a household she had landed herself in.