A Village in Jeopardy (Turnham Malpas 16) (14 page)

‘You forget I’m not free.’

‘You could be.’

‘But I’m not. I don’t even know where Marcus is. I know he’s in London but that’s all. He’s changed his mobile so I can’t even phone him. I’ve tried calling it over and over, but it’s dead.’

‘What’s he doing in London?’

‘He’s got a publisher interested. You can imagine what that’s done for him.’

‘Has he? He must be over the moon, I expect. In that case you can get in touch with him through his publisher.’

‘At the moment it pleases me not to be in touch with him. At least he’s stopped asking me for money, but I don’t want him coming home. I think he’s found another woman.’

Johnny wasn’t quite sure how to take this news. Surely this was the moment for asking about a divorce? Alice seemed distant from him, which Johnny couldn’t understand. Didn’t she want him? Had he got it all wrong?

‘I’ve come because I didn’t hear from you, and because I know for certain I can’t live without you. You do acknowledge that, don’t you? I want you and I would be married tomorrow if we could; even tomorrow isn’t soon enough. I’ve lost all enthusiasm for the hotel business – there’s no pleasure in it any more. I want the here and now with you in my house, in this village that eighteen months ago I didn’t even know existed and I want to take up a life like Great-Great-Uncle Ralph had. I want to be Sir Jonathan Templeton of this parish and go to church with you, and go to the races and the county show, and do things that country people do. I’m a good shot and I ride so I’m halfway there.’

Alice smiled properly for the first time. ‘It sounds lovely. Just right for an English country gentleman.’ She held his hand against her cheek and he felt her welcome him at last.

‘Alice! I want the children you’ve longed for. The eldest boy would inherit the title, wouldn’t he? I have need of a son and heir.’ He smiled at his own foolishness but Alice looked the other way and didn’t reply.

‘I can afford a dozen if you like.’ Johnny placed a finger under her chin and turned her face towards him, but his heart chilled when he saw her expression. The welcome had begun to melt away and he didn’t know what to say next to paint the picture that would finally entice her into his arms, and they ached for her. ‘I’ll pour the tea,’ he said softly.

She accepted the tea and drank almost the whole cupful, scalding hot though it was. ‘Darling! Be careful! A biscuit?’ What had happened to the suave, talkative, polished socialite he had been all his adult life? He’d never been at a loss for words before. He felt so tender towards her, so caring, yet he couldn’t put his feelings into words.

Alice accepted a biscuit and rapidly devoured it. She helped herself to another.

But still she didn’t explain how she felt. Johnny stood up and made as though he was about to leave.

‘Should have come to see you earlier today, but I needed a long sleep. You know how it is. Jet lag. I know it must be a shock to have me come back so unexpectedly. I’ll go now, give you space, time to think. I mean every word I said about living here in the village. If you don’t want me any more I shall still be here to delight in seeing you, even if it’s only a glimpse, to hear you play, to listen to your heavenly voice singing something wonderful as only you can. Any time you want me you know where I am, when you’re ready. Dearest heart.’ Johnny bent over her, kissed her forehead with genuine tenderness, squeezed her hand and left.

Alice sat alone sipping tea, eating biscuits, torn apart by longing and indecision.

Johnny returned to the bar, but Dottie had turned up in his absence, and they were all preoccupied with her arrival, so silently he picked up his glass and went to sit by himself, deep in thought, at the small table by the big open fireplace.

Dottie had quietly bought herself a drink at the bar and then, taking a deep breath, approached the table with the long settle down one side. Busy speculating about what might be going on between Alice and Johnny, they hadn’t noticed her come in and were surprised when she said, ‘Hello, I’m back. Anyone sitting here?’

Willie pulled the chair out for her. ‘If there is, they’re not any more, because it’s yours and you’re welcome, Dottie. We’ve missed you, haven’t we? All of us. And I’m dead sorry about what I said. It was uncalled for and I can’t apologise enough.’

Sylvia, grateful for Willie apologising so sincerely said, ‘And if you hadn’t come back we’d have had to cancel the embroidery group next week. Sheila Bissett tried doing your filling in but made a hopeless mess of it, so believe me you’ll be welcomed with open arms on Monday.’

Dottie acknowledged the compliment by patting Sylvia’s hand. ‘Right, don’t panic, Dottie’s back and ready for work. I’m back at the Rectory tomorrow and Pat Jones has left a note to say I’m booked for helping her at a big do at the Old Barn this Saturday, so it’s a good job I’m back. This village can’t function without me, apparently.’ She grinned at them all and they raised their glasses to her and said ‘Amen to that!’ And Dottie sighed with relief.

Chapter 10

Johnny’s invitation to dinner, promised weeks ago when Alice’s world was not nearly so complicated as it was now, plopped through the letter box late one night. Hers was addressed only to her, no Marcus of course, and tearing the envelope open she felt tears rising. So here it was, Friday night next week, seven for seven thirty. Alice read the fancy card again, re-read the envelope and couldn’t decide what she should do. When Marcus told her Johnny had been that time to ask which was the best night for her and after that he’d gone back home, she’d dismissed the whole idea from her mind, but obviously Johnny hadn’t.

What a totally impossible situation this created. If she didn’t go, what would her excuse be? She’d find one, that was for sure. Only Johnny would know it wasn’t true; the others wouldn’t. Before she knew it the baby would be showing, and then the cat would be out of the bag, so to speak. Johnny had not troubled her since that first time. She’d seen him passing the house once or twice but they hadn’t actually met face to face. After that tense arrival of him at her door, flowers had arrived the following day from the most expensive florist in Turnham Malpas with a card that declared her his own Alice, the love of his life and at the bottom the single word ‘waiting’. But that was all.

She put the invitation card on the mantelpiece and stood back to admire it. The idea that ran through her mind was if she got Marcus to come back, his ego would make him accept the baby was his, rather than face the truth, even though he knew it was impossible. If she knew nothing else about him she knew he was totally capable of deceiving himself. Then she’d never have to tell Johnny. Thank God for that. Why was she glad? Because it meant he wouldn’t have to marry her out of guilt, nor obligation, nor pity. That was it, yes. She’d get Marcus back.

The very second she had made her decision she knew what a fool she was. She would be the deceiver, not Marcus, nor Johnny . . . only Alice, with the whole of her life lived in a never-ending fog of guilt. With a jolt it also occurred to her the wrong she would be doing to her baby; it too would be deceived all its life. How could the wonderful loving time she’d had with Johnny become such a sullied, complicated affair?

She was already seven or eight weeks gone, she guessed, so the day for the big revelation was fast approaching. Decision time had arrived and the honest truth, when looked at from all angles, was what had to be declared.

The following night, after the last of her piano pupils had left, she combed her hair, checked her face, made sure she had her house key and set off round Stocks Row to Johnny’s house, her heart all of a flutter remembering the last time she’d told him the truth and the hair-raising result of that.

When she rang the doorbell it had a new sound. Mmm, new doorbell. I wish I felt as jolly as it sounds. She heard his beloved positive footsteps coming down the hall and there he stood. Looking wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Her heart seemed to leap to her throat. ‘I’ve come.’

Johnny’s face shone with love for her. He reached towards her, took her hand and drew her in over the step with the intention of kissing her.

‘No! Not yet! You have to hear what I have to say first.’

He looked shocked as he asked, ‘Have you come to say no?’

‘Can we go in and sit down?’

‘Of course.’ He opened the sitting room door and she followed him in and chose to sit in a chair where her face was in a slight shadow. He sat down too.

‘You said you want children?’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Well . . .’ Her news came out in a rush. ‘I’m already expecting a baby and it’s yours. There, I’ve said it and it’s the truth; it is yours. I’m about seven or eight weeks. No doubt about it. That’s what I came to say. If you want me to go I will. I just thought you ought to know; it’s only right and fair you should.’

The emotions, the conflicting emotions that crossed Johnny’s face told her nothing. First his face lit with joy, then it changed to sadness, and she dreaded what he was going to say, then it softened into tenderness, then he drew a great breath and he asked, ‘How do you know it isn’t Marcus’s?’

‘Because for almost eighteen months now Marcus has not been able to . . . well . . . perform . . . Not at all. He never discussed the problem but then he’s like that; he avoids talking about things and hopes they’ll go away. Thoughts have been charging round my head ever since I knew I was pregnant. You’d gone back to Brazil so I thought, no, I won’t tell him – he obviously isn’t interested in hearing news like this. If Marcus comes back I’ll say nothing and when it’s obvious he’ll take it on board and he’ll persuade himself it’s his because it boosts his ego and admitting the truth wouldn’t. Boost his ego, that is.’ There was nothing more she could say. His forearms were resting on his thighs, his hands were twisting together, over and over again and his head was bowed, so Alice couldn’t even see his face to guess his reaction.

‘I’m thrilled to bits, Johnny. It’s what I’ve wanted for years, but daren’t because we’d have had no income for a while and Marcus was writing and hoping . . . and Marcus . . . well, I don’t know what he’ll think . . .’

‘Do we have to go on talking about that damned Marcus? On and on?’

The suddenness of his outburst shocked Alice. He was so very angry.

Still looking down at his hands Johnny said through clenched teeth, ‘The man is a damned waste of space and not worth one single moment of consideration from you. He’s treated you like dirt all these years and still you are concerned for him. I don’t want his name mentioned in my presence ever again. As far as you and I are concerned we’ll wipe him off the face of the earth. Do you hear me? Mmm?’

‘I heard you. Yes.’ Alice still didn’t know how he felt.

His hands relaxed and he looked up at her. ‘Sorry for shouting; you don’t deserve it. Come and sit with me.’

Still hesitant, she stood up, but before she reached him she asked, ‘How do you feel about it? It is the truth and I’m wonderfully happy and will be even more so if you are, but if not, I’ve decided I cannot and will not have an abortion, not your baby, so I’ll bring the baby up myself, and . . . I will do my best by her . . . or him.’

This then was the brave sweet woman he’d loved from the first moment he’d met her, and she was so tenderly concerned for his feelings. A courageous, loving, thoughtful, honest woman any man would be blessed to have for himself. She sat awkwardly on his knee till he pulled her closer and hugged her in a way that made her feel cherished, which was what she needed right now.

But still he hadn’t said.

After a silence that Alice didn’t feel able to interrupt with her chattering, which tonight had turned into nonsense for some reason, Johnny stirred, kissed her cheek and said, ‘Dear heart, of course I want this baby; it’s mine. It’s yours.’ He held her more securely, as though taking possession of what was his.

‘Never again will you want for anything you need, never. I swear. You’ll have all my support and I shall be proud to be looking forward to a child of ours.’

‘And what about me?’

Johnny looked puzzled. ‘What about you?’

‘I mean, is it just the baby you want? Not me.’

‘Of course it’s you. It’s all about you. I love you no matter what. I shall wait for you till you’re free and then we’ll have a lovely village wedding, or just have the two of us there if you prefer and we’ll do the thing they say in fairy tales, live happily ever after. And we shall, I’m determined.’

‘So you’ve asked me to marry you then?’

‘You’re teasing me! What else? Isn’t it what you want?’ He laughed when she nodded her head in agreement, kissed her, kissed her again and then tipped her off his knee.

‘We’ll drink to our future lives together. I’m never without champagne in the fridge, so we’ll drink a toast to ourselves and the future and the baby right now.’

‘Johnny, I’m not drinking alcohol at the moment.’

Surprised by her firmness he paused in the kitchen doorway to look at her face, thinking there must be something she still had to tell him, which maybe he didn’t want to hear, but he saw the earnestness there and light dawned. ‘Of course, you won’t want to. You mustn’t. Then I shan’t either.’

So they drank to their future with lemonade.

Chapter 11

Dottie arrived at half past eight as usual. She announced her arrival by calling out, ‘It’s only me!’ and Caroline rejoiced at the sound of her voice.