Love or Duty (19 page)

As she mechanically went about her chores, she tried not to think about Alfie and the disillusioned look on his thin little face when he realized he wouldn’t be able to stay. She polished the glasses and took them through to the drawing room, set up the card table and rearranged the chairs. She took the remaining bottles out of the sideboard, noting the low level in the gin and whisky bottles. There was plenty of soda and tonic but no fresh lemons. James would complain but there was nothing she could do about that. No one had seen a lemon for months.

As she returned to the kitchen she glanced up the stairs. James was spending a long time with her stepmother; it wasn’t like him to volunteer to do anything in the nature of caring for her needs. He would sit on the side of her bed, patting her hand, flattering her and playing the perfect son-
in-law
but that was usually the extent of his involvement.

Louise’s lips twisted in a wry smile as she wondered if he was trying to cajole Dora into selling the house. He clearly hadn’t taken in what she’d said. Dora couldn’t sell even if she wanted to. Besides, who’d buy it? The property business, as well as the building trade, had been in decline since the war started. Instead of building new houses, they were relying on the rents from houses they already owned.

Why was James so keen to sell? Was it just to get rid of the burden of an ailing mother-in-law? Or was he desperate for money?

Louise knew it was no good asking. If he was in a good mood he’d pat her hand and tell her not to worry her pretty little head about such things. And if he was in a bad one, his lips would thin and a glint would come into his eyes. ‘None of your business,’ he would snap and that would be the end of the matter.

She went back into the drawing room to make sure everything was how James liked it and then went upstairs to change and do her hair. As she passed Dora’s room she heard laughter – Dora’s light tinkle and James’s throaty chuckle. The sound boded well for the coming evening.

She was patting her hair into place when the door opened and she swung round, tense for a word of criticism. Her shoulders relaxed as James said, ‘Lovely, my dear.’ He held out a hand and drew her towards him. ‘You’re a credit to me, the perfect hostess. They really envy me, you know. They like coming here for card evenings. Steve and Ed live in lodgings and Roly’s wife won’t let him have us round there. I told him he should put his foot down.’ James laughed. ‘Under the thumb, poor old sod.’

Louise didn’t like James’s new friends. They weren’t business colleagues or old school friends. She thought they’d met in the pub or at the race course. She wondered why they weren’t in the forces. Like James they showed no sign of being exempt on medical grounds but perhaps they were in reserved occupations. Not that she cared. She just hoped they would all behave themselves that evening. At least, unless they brought their own drink with them, there would be no drunken carousing.

The doorbell rang and she hurried down to answer it. The three men greeted her exuberantly. They had obviously already visited the pub. Louise recoiled at the smell of alcohol on their breath.

When she’d taken their coats and they were seated, she poured their drinks and went into the kitchen to fetch the large plate of canapés she’d prepared earlier.

She returned to a burst of laughter and she caught the words, ‘Don’t know how he does it, old boy.’

James was leaning back in his chair a self-satisfied smirk on his face. He tapped the side of his nose. ‘Don’t ask,’ he said.

She put the plate on the sideboard and caught sight of the new bottle – a very expensive brand of whisky.

As the evening wore on, the room filled with smoke and the game got noisier. James insisted on Louise remaining by his side. ‘You bring me luck,’ he said, pulling her down onto his knee. She didn’t think so. He was losing consistently.

Louise longed for her bed but James kept his arm round her, resisting her attempts to move away. Her eyes were closing but they flew open as James gave a whoop of triumph, threw his remaining cards down and leaned forward to scoop the heap of money towards him. She seized the moment to start gathering up the glasses. Useless to hope he’d call it a night; a win like that would only spur him on to try his luck again.

A glance at the clock told her it was gone midnight. She hoped Dora was able to sleep through the noise. Perhaps she should go up and check on her.

She was about to slip away when the laughter died down and Roly held up a hand. ‘Listen,’ he said.

Into the resulting silence the wail of the air raid siren brought instant sobriety. James pushed back his chair. ‘So much for a night off. Sorry, boys. Game over. I’d better get down to the post.’

He shoved the men out of the front door, grabbed his rifle and tin hat and followed them down the front path. Amid promises to return soon and win their money back, the men parted.

Louise closed the front door with a sigh of relief. It was probably a false alarm. Although their days and nights were often disrupted by the air raid warning, Holton hadn’t suffered any bombing so far. The planes were
probably
on their way to Portsmouth or Southampton. At least the siren had cut the evening short and, with a bit of luck, she’d be asleep by the time James returned.

When the raids had first started, they’d gone down to the cellar to shelter. But getting Dora downstairs took so long that the all clear had usually gone by the time she was settled. After the first couple of false alarms, she had refused to leave her bed, and Louise wouldn’t leave her alone.

She went upstairs, hoping her stepmother had slept through the siren’s wail. The drone of the bombers sounded much louder than usual and she jumped as she heard the sharp stutter of anti-aircraft fire from the gun emplacement on the promenade. Perhaps she should try to get Dora downstairs this time.

Dora was lying on her back, mouth open, snoring. Louise shook her. ‘Mother, it’s a raid – a bad one,’ she said.

Dora didn’t move and Louise shook her harder, beginning to panic as a loud thump nearby rattled the windows. ‘Come on, we must get
downstairs
.’

There was still no response and Louise would have thought she was dead but for the loud snores which continued to shake the bed. She sank to her knees, clutching Dora’s hand and praying under her breath. How long the raid lasted she couldn’t tell but it seemed like hours before the all clear sounded, coinciding with a loud grunt from her stepmother. Louise almost giggled in her relief.

She stood up on shaky legs and once more tried to wake Dora. Why was she sleeping so heavily? The sedative the doctor had prescribed was only a mild one.

The bottle was on the bedside table, not on the shelf where Louise usually left it. She picked it up, noticing that there were only a couple of tablets left. Surely there should be more? Had Dora got confused and taken too many?

She shook her stepmother’s shoulder again. ‘Wake up, please,’ she
whispered
. She dashed water from the carafe into her face and struggled to pull her upright. Talking continuously while shaking her and slapping her face, Louise tried to bring her round. Her efforts brought no response and she was contemplating leaving her to go downstairs and telephone for an ambulance when Dora spoke. ‘What’s going on?’ she muttered, her words slurred.

‘Mother, I was so worried.’ Louise was almost crying with relief. ‘How many tablets did you take?’ She was sure it must have been a mistake. Dora was not the type to attempt to take her own life.

‘James gave me a nice glass of sherry – the dear boy,’ Dora murmured and fell back on the pillow, asleep once more.

Louise tucked the covers round her and picked up the bottle again. Surely James hadn’t…? She shook her head. No, it must have been a mistake. Dora had probably woken and forgotten she’d already taken her medicine. It had happened before, which was why Louise always put the bottle out of reach. If James was to blame for anything it was for leaving the bottle on the bedside table and forgetting that Dora shouldn’t mix alcohol with her medication.

W
hen Louise woke the next morning she discovered that James hadn’t returned home after the air raid. Her sleep had been restless; she couldn’t quite put out of her mind the tentative suspicion that had arisen when she realized that Dora had taken too many of her sleeping tablets.

Was that why James had kept her so firmly by his side all evening – so that she wouldn’t have the opportunity to go and check on her stepmother? She didn’t want to believe – couldn’t really believe – that he would
deliberately
harm her just so that he could get his hands on the house.

As soon as she was fully awake she went in to Dora’s room, relieved to find her sitting up, her hand on the bell.

‘Oh, there you are. My dear, you look dreadful. Did you have a late night?’

‘There was an air raid, Mother – a bad one. Didn’t you hear the siren?’

Dora yawned. ‘I didn’t hear a thing. I had a good sleep but I woke up with an awful headache. Have we got any aspirin?’

After some hesitation, Louise handed her a pill and a glass of water. Who knew what effect mixing all these tablets might have.

As she went down to prepare breakfast she decided she’d give James the benefit of the doubt. After all, Dora had so many pills and potions arrayed on her bedside table – it must have been a mistake. But she’d definitely speak to him about making sure the sleeping tablets were out of reach. She didn’t want to go though another night like last night.

James didn’t come home until the middle of the morning. He looked exhausted, his face and hands encrusted with dirt, dark shadows under his eyes. She didn’t have the heart to berate him. She made him sit down and poured out the remaining whisky, pleased that his friends hadn’t had time to finish the bottle last night. ‘Rest a while,’ she said, handing him the tumbler. ‘I’ll run you a bath.’

When she came downstairs again he’d fallen asleep in the chair, the tumbler hanging loosely from his hand. She took it away and gently shook his shoulder. ‘You’ll be more comfortable in bed,’ she said, helping him up.

He was sleeping soundly when she went into their room a little later and she stood for a moment, looking down on him. In sleep she could see once more the boyish good looks that had attracted her. She smiled wryly, telling herself to enjoy the respite while she could. Good looks and charm weren’t everything and when he woke he’d soon revert to the demanding
controlling
person she’d come to know.

She closed the door quietly and looked in on Dora who was dozing in her chair by the window. She had shown no interest in the raid and Louise now realized that she didn’t know what had happened either. James had been too exhausted to talk before falling into bed.

She decided to go into town to see for herself. Perhaps she could do something to help. She closed the front door quietly and set off for the town centre.

There was a queue outside the baker’s as well as the butcher’s today. She nodded to one of the women, a member of St Mark’s congregation, and answered questions about her stepmother’s health.

‘And what about that raid last night?’ the woman said. ‘I was frightened out of my wits. It was quite near me, you know – the bomb. One house completely flattened and the others badly damaged. Three killed I heard.’

‘Was it your road?’ Louise asked.

‘The next one over, Alexandra road.’

Louise’s heart began to hammer. That was where Muriel Baines lived. She had to find out if she was all right. Leaving the queue, she ran up the High Street and past the station.

As she turned the corner she could see that Muriel’s house, although badly damaged, was still standing. Beyond it, a gaping crater was cordoned off. A policeman and a warden were roping off the area, while beyond them the rescue squad dug in the rubble.

She ran towards Muriel’s house, calling her friend’s name.

‘There’s no one there,’ the policeman called. ‘Go along to the church hall. They’ll give you any news.’

She was about to turn away when she heard a faint cry. Pushing the policeman aside, she tried to look through the shattered window. ‘Muriel, is that you?’ she called.

A movement caught her eye and she heard a groan. Muriel was lying on the far side of the room, the grandfather clock across her legs. Louise turned to the policeman. ‘She’s in there. Help her,’ she begged.

The policeman caught her arm. ‘It’s not safe. Leave it to the rescue squad.’

‘It might be too late. We’ve got to get her out.’ She shook him off and clambered over the windowsill, edging gingerly towards the still figure.

Muriel groaned and tried to sit up but she couldn’t move, her legs trapped by the grandfather clock.

Louise heard a sound behind her and called out to the policeman. ‘Quickly. We’ve got to get her out. Help me.’

‘Careful now,’ a voice said in her ear.

Louise gasped when she realized it wasn’t the constable. But there was no time to speak. An ominous creaking lent her strength and she and Andrew lifted the heavy clock. He held it up while Louise helped to free her friend. They scrambled away as Andrew let the clock fall. He lifted Muriel and deposited her on the ground outside. As he turned to help Louise over the windowsill, the building swayed and brick dust began to rain down. Andrew pulled her away and three of them staggered into the road.

As the policeman helped Muriel into the waiting ambulance, Andrew grabbed Louise by the arms and shook her. ‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at? You should have waited for the rescue squad,’ he shouted, his face white beneath the layers of dust.

Louise pushed him away. ‘Suppose I’d waited. Muriel would still be in there.’ She made to turn away but he grabbed her arm again. ‘Louise, you could have been killed. I couldn’t….’ His words were drowned by a loud rumble as the building began to collapse.

As the noise died away, she shook her head. What had he been saying? She looked into his eyes, hope flaring at the expression in them. He did care then. She dragged her gaze away and tried to still the trembling in her voice. ‘I should go down to the WVS centre and tell them what’s happened.’

‘I’ll come with you. I might be able to help.’

She didn’t try to stop him and by the time she reached the corner of the street she was glad of his supporting arm. Reaction had set in and her legs were shaking, her breathing erratic.

At the centre he made her sit down while he went to explain to the WVS leader what had happened.

Someone brought her a cup of tea and she sat with it in her hand, letting it go cold. The hall was full of people, some with shocked blank faces, others speaking volubly as they recounted their experiences. It was the worst raid on Holton Regis so far. Alexandra road wasn’t the only area hit and people were still coming in.

She thought Andrew had left until she saw him approaching with his doctor’s bag.

‘I’d better take a look at that gash, Mrs Spencer,’ he said, kneeling beside her chair.

Louise hadn’t noticed the blood running down her leg. ‘It’s nothing,’ she said, trying to hide her hurt at his formal tone. What had happened to ‘Louise’?

‘We’ll see about that.’ Quickly and efficiently he cleaned and dressed the wound. He was all doctor now, no sign of the feelings that had almost
overwhelmed
him earlier. Louise told herself she had imagined it; he’d just been showing the concern he would for anybody in that situation.

While he worked, he told her that Violet Wilson, the WVS coordinator, would find somewhere for Muriel to stay when she was released from the hospital.

Louise thanked him and said, ‘I ought to be going. Mother will wonder what’s happened to me.’ She stood up. ‘I’ll just have a word with Mrs Wilson. I’ve been meaning to come down and offer my services.’

‘I’ll wait for you and take you home. You should rest that leg for a day or two.’

When she tried to protest he said, ‘Nonsense. You can’t walk through the streets in that state.’

For the first time she became aware of her dishevelled hair and torn clothing. ‘Perhaps you’re right,’ she replied and followed him out to where he had left his uncle’s car.

During the short drive to Steyne House Louise was acutely conscious of the man beside her. At the touch of his hand on her arm, feelings she had long tried to suppress came rushing to the fore.

Despite telling herself she’d imagined the anguished concern on his face when they’d escaped the ruins of Muriel’s house, she was sure now that he returned those feelings. When his manner had changed and he’d become the professional doctor again, she realized she hadn’t been mistaken. But she knew he wasn’t the sort of man to act on them. His formal use of her married title was a reminder to both of them that she wasn’t free.

Neither of them had said a word since she got in the car and, as it drew up outside the house, she reached for the door, desperate to get away and nurse her wounded heart in private. He leaned across and put his hand on hers. ‘Wait – please,’ he said.

‘Andrew – I must go.’ She tried to pull away, panic-stricken as she
realized
that she had been gone for hours and it was already getting dark. Suppose James had woken and found her gone? He’d never believe she’d just popped out for a loaf of bread.

‘Not yet. We haven’t had a chance to talk.’ Andrew gripped her hand. ‘Please….’

‘There’s nothing to say, is there?’

Andrew groaned. ‘When I thought you were hurt I wanted to hold you, to comfort you, to—’

‘No, Andrew.’ Louise laid a hand on his arm. ‘You mustn’t talk like that.’

He pulled her to him. ‘What a fool I’ve been. Why didn’t I speak up before…?’

She knew she should push him away but she couldn’t. Wasn’t this what she had dreamed of for so long? She leaned into him and lifted her face for his kiss. How sweet it was to give in to him, to submerge herself in feelings she’d only imagined. She wanted more and she could tell that Andrew did too. He shifted in the seat straining to get closer and, over his shoulder, she saw the front door open.

Frantically, she pushed Andrew away, grabbing for the car door. ‘I must go,’ she whispered, ‘James….’

She straightened her jacket and patted her hair, leapt out of the car and ran up the front path, grateful for the deepening dusk. James took a step towards her, peering into the dark as the car pulled away. ‘Who was that?’ he asked.

‘Dr Tate brought me home,’ she said, thankful that there was no need to lie.

‘Thought I recognized the old buffer’s car,’ he said. ‘Why didn’t he come in?’

‘He had to see a patient,’ Louse said.

James pushed the door shut and gripped her arms, giving her a little shake. ‘Where the hell have you been all this time?’ He pushed her into the kitchen and snatched up the note she’d left him, waving it under her nose. ‘And don’t say queuing for bread, which is where you said you were going. It doesn’t take all afternoon and half the evening does it?’ He was still holding her arm and he shook her again.

‘I was worried about Miss Baines so I went to see if she was all right. She was trapped in her house. I waited until she was rescued and then went to the WVS centre.’ It was the truth but he still looked sceptical. Her legs started to shake as guilt smote her. She hadn’t lied but it wasn’t the whole story. If he suspected….

He gave a short laugh and let go of her so abruptly that she stumbled against the kitchen table. ‘Don’t know why you were worrying about that old bag. Besides, you’ve got your own family to worry about. What about Dora, left alone for hours? She needs you more.’ He paced up and down the room, stopping in front of her and raising his hand to her face. ‘If I thought….’

‘I’m sorry, James,’ she said quickly. She hated apologizing but she had to calm him down.

He dropped his hand to his side. ‘I was worried about you, darling, after that dreadful raid last night,’ he said, with that quick change of manner that always unnerved her. ‘I woke up and you were gone. I didn’t know what to think.’

For the first time he seemed to notice the state of her clothes and he reached up to brush a streak of dirt from her cheek. ‘You are a mess, darling. It must have been quite awful for you.’

Louise managed to smile. ‘No worse than for you. You said it was a bad raid, that’s why I felt I had to help. Those poor people made homeless. I wanted to do my bit – just like you, James,’ she said. ‘Whenever I ask why you’re out so long, that’s what you tell me – you’re doing your bit. It’s what I should have been doing all along but I let you persuade me that my place was here looking after Mother.’

‘And so it is,’ James snapped, his mood changing again. ‘You haven’t given her a thought, have you? It’s a good job I was here to see to her.’

For a moment Louise felt ashamed. It was true that Dora’s needs had been the last thing on her mind, especially during those few precious moments in the car. Still, she was determined to find time to join the WVS. Mrs Wilson had said they could always use and extra pair of hands.

It was a week after the raid and Louise hadn’t had time to go and offer her services at the WVS centre. James had become even more demanding, coming home for lunch every day and insisting on a proper meal. It was almost as if he was trying to find a way to stop her doing anything that would take her away from what he insisted was her duty.

When she tried to protest he said that he was worried about Dora and insinuated that she didn’t care about her stepmother. His cutting words struck a little close to home and increased her feelings of guilt. Certainly James’s concern seemed genuine. He always found time to sit with Dora for a few minutes before returning to the office. But she was beginning to think that making her feel guilty was James’s way of controlling her.

She was putting clean towels in the bathroom and, as she passed Dora’s room she heard James say, ‘Would you really like to go? Are you sure you feel well enough?’

Go where? Louise wondered. Dora hadn’t been outside the house for months. Curiosity overcame her and she entered the room. Dora looked up excitedly, holding up the local newspaper. ‘It’s Sarah’s film,’ she said. ‘It’s on at the Picturedrome this week. We must go and see it.’