Edinburgh, 1914
Laura settled down to work again with an enormous sense of relief. Caroline was back at school and ballet classes, which she loved, and her discontent had seemed to fade once she was back in their old routine. It was obvious to Laura that staying with their well-off relations had unsettled Caroline. How could they not?
January was a quiet month in her business, apart from a few rich customers who always wanted new gowns to wear to big social occasions.
This was when Laura started to plan ahead for the coming year, attempting to predict the changing fashions. By the end of the month she’d be ordering suitable fabrics for dresses, jackets and lightweight coats.
What would the style be? She loved designing more than anything; she had always had dreams of being a fashion designer with a dozen young women doing the actual cutting, fitting and stitching. She’d heard that one day sewing machines would be electric and so much quicker. Meanwhile, she had to slog away and be thankful that garments no longer had to be made entirely by hand.
She decided that after a freezing, icy winter, no one was going to want garments made of wool, tweed or velvet, or fur-trimmed brocade in rich colours. The materials should echo the soft loveliness of spring. Orders for fabric must be given to the manufacturers in good time and she must be able to provide a wide choice, to avoid the embarrassment of two of her ladies turning up at a function in the same material.
How refreshing it would be to create gowns of delicate fabric, and if they were the pastel shade of spring flowers that would be de rigueur. Now she visualized satin that was the colour of primroses and silk in that tender pink of a hyacinth. Then there was the blue of bluebells. In her mind’s eye she could see a ball gown in chiffon, drifting and fluttering as the wearer moved. The ideas were coming thick and fast now and she reached for her box of pencils and her pad of artists’ paper. With growing excitement, she started sketching. This was the part she enjoyed the most. A few minutes later she’d drawn a dress of stylish but restrained elegance – perfect for her younger customers who could still show their arms and necklines. A few minutes later she’d completed a drawing for the older ladies, with long sleeves and a neckline softened by frills.
Smiling to herself, Laura continued to design more dresses, skirts, pretty blouses and well-cut coats and jackets. The cut was of paramount importance, along with the quality of the material. She particularly liked cutting on the cross, so that a garment appeared moulded to the body.
That night when Caroline was asleep in the little room they shared, she made a list of women who had been recommended to go to her. From the business point of view, the next twelve months looked highly profitable. Two of her young customers were getting married and their mothers would no doubt need splendid outfits. There would likely be bridesmaids to be dressed, not to mention the bridal gown and veil.
It was also time she began to charge just a little bit more. Industrialists’ wives now wanted to dress like the gentry. They certainly had the money but it was the cachet of going to Lady Laura, daughter of an earl that really counted, because she had such good taste.
Even though the future looked very good, with enough income to keep Caroline at her ballet classes, there still lurked at the back of Laura’s mind a dark shadow of fear and uncertainty. She’d learned long ago that nothing in life could be depended on.
The next morning a letter from Lizzie arrived, and Laura slipped it into her handbag until she’d taken Caroline to school. The child was so inquisitive and questioned her all the time about everything and anything. Laura knew it was because of the utter shock she must have felt on the day Walter was declared bankrupt, when they had helplessly watched as the bailiffs ordered the men to fill their lorry with the entire contents of their beautiful home. To her dying day she would remember the expression of incomprehension and unhappiness when Caroline saw her favourite toys being tossed casually away.
Lizzie and Beattie had told her she was spoiling Caroline, but Laura felt a great need to make up to Caroline all that she’d lost. Perhaps she was a bit spoilt, but they hadn’t seen the desolate look in her eyes or the droop of her mouth on the day she had lost her home and virtually her father too.
Sitting down when she was alone, Laura ripped open the envelope and read Lizzie’s letter.
Dearest Laura,
I’m in a terrible state and I don’t know what to do. Humphrey picked up a book I was reading and he found a letter from Justin between the pages. All he said was ‘enjoying the book?’ but he knows now. Justin wants me to run away with him and he’s given me a month to make up my mind. I desperately want to go with him and a part of me feels that I’ll fall apart if I don’t take this chance. I love him so much but I’m frightened of the future, too … I’ve never felt like this before over any man and I can’t sleep at night for thinking about him. Laura, my darling sister, advise me. Dare I risk everything and go?
Love,
Lizzie
Laura read it several times, committing it to memory before going into her small kitchen, reaching for a box of matches and setting fire to it over the sink. Then she turned on the taps and the fragments of black paper disappeared down the drain. Whatever happened, Caroline must have no knowledge of this family crisis.
That night, she wrote a long and sympathetic letter to her sister, where she tried to point out the pros and cons of what she was considering. She gently suggested:
I think you and Humphrey should go for a romantic holiday. Just the two of you. Tell him you’ve always wanted to visit Venice. Tell him you’re exhausted and you’d love it if you could be alone together without the constant chatter of your daughters, and running the house. I think it’s only fair to try and save your marriage. Try and think of it as a second honeymoon …
The next morning she posted the letter and prayed Lizzie would see sense. Humphrey was a good, kind man and he didn’t deserve the heartbreak of being deserted for someone twenty years younger. More importantly, Margaret, Isabel, Rose and Emma should never have to suffer the grief and the scandal of having a mother with a bad reputation.
‘That should do the trick,’ Laura muttered under her breath as she dropped her reply into the letterbox.
London, 1914
It looked like a large private house in Hans Place but it was a private hotel. Very private. Lizzie came out of the side entrance of Harrods and looked both ways before she crossed the street. Making sure there was no one she knew around, she hurried over to the entrance of the hotel, where the door opened as if by magic. Slipping inside she heard the concierge say, ‘Mr Hammond is in room seven, madam.’
‘Thank you,’ Lizzie replied under her breath, thanking God that Justin was there already.
Hurrying along the now-familiar corridor that led to room seven, her heart was thumping with excitement and nerves.
As if he sensed her imminent arrival, the door opened and a moment later she was in his arms as he held her close. Then he kissed her with such passion she felt weak. Leading her to the large bed, he pulled her down beside him.
‘My darling one,’ he whispered softly as he gently unbuttoned her coat. Lizzie arched her back, slipping off her buckled shoes. Justin lingered over undressing her, and the longer he took the more feverishly she desired him. Groaning with longing, she reached out for him and with lightning speed he tore off his own clothes. Then, naked, he lay down beside her, whispering words of love.
‘I love you too,’ she murmured, stroking his strong, young body. It flashed through her mind that whatever the future held he belonged to her in this moment, body, mind and soul, and she would remember it for the rest of her life. Their mingled cries of passion rose to a crescendo and then they lay, sated and spent.
‘Have you decided what to do?’ he asked eventually.
Lizzie propped herself up on her elbow and looked beseechingly into Justin’s face. ‘How can I leave my family?’ she asked despairingly. ‘I love you with all my heart, and of course I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But I have a duty to stay and look after my daughters …’ She buried her face in his chest and murmured, ‘Can’t we continue to meet secretly?’
Justin averted his face to hide his disappointment. ‘I’m an all or nothing sort of man. This isn’t fair on Humphrey or your family. I want to marry you and have you bear my children …’ His voice broke and he got up from the bed and started dressing hurriedly.
Lizzie sat up on the bed, looking slightly alarmed. ‘Give me a little longer, darling. I love you so much. I’m sure we can work out something …’
Justin bent over her to kiss her on the mouth: a long, lingering kiss. And then, without a word, he hurried from the room, closing the door behind him, leaving Lizzie feeling shocked. She’d never seen him so emotional before. Getting dressed quickly she left the hotel just as another, rather tarty-looking woman entered the lobby. Giving Lizzie a knowing look she asked the concierge boldly, ‘Is it room twelve as usual?’
He nodded and, startled by the woman’s cockney accent, Lizzie realized this hotel was where men met their mistresses. With flaming cheeks she hurried out of the building, appalled that Justin had chosen such a place to meet her. Once in the safety of Harrods, she found herself wandering from department to department, confused and troubled. Where could they meet in future? Should she rent a little flat?
When she returned to their home in Kensington, she was surprised to see a telegram on the hall table addressed to her. Wondering if her mother had been taken ill, or whether one of her sisters was trying to alert her urgently, she ripped open the envelope, then collapsed to her knees, crying bitterly.
Edinburgh, 1914
Laura recognized Lizzie’s handwriting and quickly slipped her letter into her handbag before Caroline saw it. Once she was alone she opened the envelope with trepidation. Her advice to Lizzie had been quite stern and this was probably a missive telling her to mind her own business, but on the contrary the letter filled her with sympathy.
I’m absolutely heartbroken and don’t know what to do. I’m in bed and Humphrey and the girls think I’m ill and having a breakdown because I can’t stop crying. The doctor has given me something but it’s not really working. I met Justin last week and I thought everything between us was all right. I told him that I didn’t think I could abandon Humphrey and the girls, but I suggested that we continue to see each other as we had been doing. I could see he was upset and he said he wanted to marry me and have children by me, but he’s said that before. Then he just left! When I got home there was a telegram for me. It was from him, saying he’d joined the army because we’d soon be at war. That was all. No goodbye. I was so shocked I collapsed on the hall floor. One minute we’re in heaven together and then I tell him I can’t leave Humphrey … and he’s gone. For ever. I’ve tried to get hold of him but it’s as though he’s vanished! What am I to do now? I fear I’ll never get over this terrible blow. Please, Laura, write back to me when you can. I’m despairing.
Laura felt a mixture of sorrow and relief for Lizzie, who was obviously devastated. She remembered the fearful pain of her own loss when Rory had been killed. At least Lizzie had known the joy of lovemaking with the man of her dreams. That was something she knew she would regret all her life. She’d been seventeen at the time and her mother had instructed all her daughters that they must remain virgins until their wedding night.
Justin had done the right and noble thing by removing himself from Lizzie’s life, and for that Laura felt grateful. A clean cut instead of a long-drawn-out farewell was for the best. This way there was no going back. Hundreds of young men were joining the army and the Fleet Air Arm because they knew war was inevitable, and Justin had killed two birds with one stone by signing up and ending the affair.