Silver (39 page)

       
Bateman’s jaw clenched and a vein near his eye began to bulge with the tension of his anger.

“
Its amazing what lengths a father might go to keep his family name clear whilst his son will go out of his way to sully it. Don’t you think, Bateman?”

       
He snapped and leapt forward a foot, raising his hand towards her face. She did not flinch but Heston was quick to lunge forwards regardless.

~o~

The day they left London
, Elizabeth kept expecting her father, Georgina or someone to rush alongside the coach and forbid her from leaving. Through Kent and overnight in Dover, she thought she saw familiar faces at every turn come to fetch her home. Across the Channel, sick with the rise and fall of the waves, she still thought that she saw the face of Cribbs among the lower deck. In fact, she did not quite shake the feeling until they arrived at Ostend and the foreign ground beneath her feet assured her she was free, if not of her predicament but certainly the immediate concern of her father.

       
The air of liberation and anticipation was not solely Elizabeth’s to cherish and she witnessed the same elation in her travel companions the moment they stepped from the boat. Avery had arranged passage from Ostend to Ghent where they would stay for a few nights and as they continued their journey by coach, Elizabeth took the opportunity to consider the changes leaving England had wrought upon Silver, Heston and Kate. She knew very little about Heston. She knew that he had pretended to be a tutor, the son of a family friend, to convince her own father as to his suitability. However, she knew nothing about where he had come from nor what he did. That Bateman recognized him that night troubled her but his actions in saving her from him assured her he was firmly on their side. Later on in their travels, he was to be butler and foil to Avery’s male counterpart but for the time being he was to be Avery’s tutor. Kate was like an infant at Christmas time, she sat beside the window remarking on every small thing which they passed. Though not accustomed to foreign travel herself, Elizabeth could not bring herself to find pleasure in the sight of every plain looking street.

       
For the first weeks, the four travelled further into Europe avoiding the busy cities and the tourist routes they had promised Frederick Greenwood they would follow. Avery was yet to find a place he was comfortable to start his transition in and so they seemed to be permanently on the move. After another fortnight, they arrived in the town of Basel in Switzerland and Avery, pleased with what he saw, indicated to Heston that he should check the four of them in to a hotel as Mr. Silver and Miss Greenwood. 

       
Basel was a bustling town with an exciting community of its own and with many visitors from all across Europe. Since Queen Victoria had holidayed in Switzerland the previous year, the area was thriving with the added tourism. As Elizabeth waited for Heston to check the four of them into a hotel, she walked with Avery down to the banks of the Rhine. As they stood on the meander of the river taking in the panorama, she watched him breathe in the chill November air and sensed a promise that had been absent from all of the other locations so far. Though she would have preferred somewhere warmer or more sophisticated like Paris or Florence she had to agree that the place was lively and beautiful. Though she did not know it then, as she watched Avery’s shoulders relax as he exhaled, she felt some of her own anxieties dissipate along with the mist of his breath on the cold air.

             
“I need to find somewhere to change before we head back to the hotel,” he said.

       
Elizabeth said nothing and Avery turned to explain. “The porter shall be expecting to escort you and Kate to your room and a
Mr.
Silver and Mr. Heston to their rooms.”

       
Elizabeth nodded but shrugged. It was a gesture which said many things; that she did not know how to help, that she did not know what to say and that she did not care. Ignoring her, Avery’s eyes lit upon the bridge that spanned the river to their right. Dark grey, it was made of several arches which reflected dully in the water. Where the bridge met the land, a deep pocket of trees and bushes proved to be too tempting an opportunity for Avery. Looking around quickly he grabbed Elizabeth by the arm and strode down towards the bushes.

             
“Oh, surely not!” Elizabeth exclaimed when she realized his intentions and she looked around furtively, craning to see if anyone would see them. By the time she had reached the dark bushes, Avery had slipped between them and the grey stone wall and called out to her.

“
Keep a watch. This won’t take more than a moment.”

       
True to his word, only five minutes later, Avery emerged clutching the carpet bag in which his dress and boots were now stowed. He looked a lot more disheveled and Elizabeth stepped forward to correct the sweep of his hair and to pull his shirt collars more tightly around his neck. Above them, where the bridge rose across the water, a pedestrian noticed them and wolf whistled, calling out in German. From the man’s perspective, the pair looked as though they had just been caught out in a romantic clinch and Avery stepped back from Elizabeth abruptly.

       
Elizabeth looked up at the man and impulsively gave him a wave and a ready smile. Avery laughed and, caught up with the moment, he pulled Elizabeth too him and kissed her. As he did so, she closed her eyes and felt herself drawn upwards to him. By contrast, Avery drew away and looked sheepish. Rather than spoil the moment, he strode back to the main thoroughfare, calling over his shoulder.

             
“Come, Miss Greenwood. The day is young and there is much to do.”

       
It was over in a second but the feel of his lips on hers stayed with her all that day. As they arrived back at the hotel Elizabeth could still feel it; over dinner that evening and when she woke the following morning, to the sound of Kate drawing water Elizabeth pressed her hands to her lips to assure herself that he had left nothing of himself upon them.

~o~

             
By the end of the month, Avery had explored much of the city and was beginning to grow restless. Now that he had begun to shed his female persona, he was keen to keep on with his first plan which was to see as much of Europe as possible. As amiable as ever, he had begun to build a network in the city and the familiarity with which he was met was beginning to make him feel uncomfortable. Though they had checked in as travelling companions with Kate posing as Elizabeth’s maid and Heston as his valet, Avery had quickly been upset with Kate having to wait upon Elizabeth and he had employed the services of a young girl who could attend to her instead. This left Miss Ward with more free time at her disposal than she was comfortable with. Their days fell into a routine quickly enough with Kate and Avery taking morning walks around the city, they would all lunch together and then he would often spend his evenings alone or as a foursome with Heston, Kate and Elizabeth taking in some evening entertainment. With two women in his entourage he was beginning to get a reputation around the town which amused and annoyed Elizabeth.

“
What on earth do you both find to talk about for so long on your walks?” Elizabeth asked one morning when Kate had returned from a walk with Avery.

       
It had been growing much colder and Elizabeth, though annoyed that Avery had not once asked her to join him on his morning stroll, was rather pleased to be inside on days such as those. Kate seemed to give her question much thought and then shrugging her shoulders she replied.

             
“We talk about lots of things. I seem to do much of the talking but he always listens. He asks me about the town I grew up in, about service, about how it is to sleep in a truckle bed in an attic room, about how it feels to wear his pretty dresses after the plain sacks I am used to.” She blushed as she noticed Elizabeth watching her and she quickly tried to change the subject.

“
We have not yet talked about you, if that is what you wish to know. Though quite what I am to tell him when he asks why you are beginning to look so thick around your stomach is beyond me.”

       
Elizabeth shot her a glare. This was what came from Kate having too much time on her hands. If she was not kept busy, she had time enough only to press Elizabeth about what she planned to do. Thus far, Elizabeth had managed to avoid discussing it entirely but she was growing concerned too and, though she was cross with not having brought it up herself, she welcomed the opportunity to have someone else to talk about the matter with.

“
I rather hoped he would never know,” said Elizabeth finally. She had turned her face away from Kate’s and she felt tears welling. It was unlike her to allow her emotions to run so close to the surface but in the last months she had found herself welling at the most ridiculous and sentimental things.

“But of course he must!” Kate spouted. “Sometime in the spring
, you are going to be heavily pregnant and you won’t be want to be gallivanting around Europe on your travels. We won’t leave you on your own, so we need to think about a place to settle for a bit. A month after that you are due to be home and I’ll bet you’ve given no thought to what your father is going to say when he sees you looking as large as a house. How is that going to look? That Avery concealed that from him will not go down well either. When you said you didn’t want to tell anyone. I let you alone. You said you needed to get out of London and we got out of London. You said you wanted to get away from that Bateman. Well I reckon you won’t see him again. Not in a long time. So now you are clear of him, and England, you must tell Avery.” Kate fell silent and Elizabeth continued to keep her face turned away. Of course she had heard everything that Kate had said and contrary to what the girl thought of her, Elizabeth had given all of those things a lot of thought. She knew exactly how her father’s face would look if she arrived home either pregnant or carrying a baby. She also knew only too well that her fiancé would rather terminate their engagement than be shamed in such a way. She knew she was beginning to show and she suspected it would not be much longer before she would not be able to deny the changes in her body to the rest of the world. She knew all that but did not know what to do. Though she felt like a woman, the enormity of the problem made her feel like a child. She had hoped that something would happen, that somebody would make a decision for her or that Avery would just find out and plans would be made without her knowing.

             
“Elizabeth?” Kate prompted.

       
Elizabeth opened her eyes and turned to face Kate. She would have to deal with this herself.

“
I will speak to Avery this evening.”

              As I replaced the mouthpiece on the telephone stand, I felt at last as though I were back in control of my own self. John’s mother had been kind but obstructive. She made no effort to conceal her distaste of the news of my father but her dislike of matters both personal and delicate ensured that neither of us spoke of the situation directly. Her concern, as was mine, was for her son.

             
“How is John bearing up?”

“John is being very practical Margaret. You know John.”

“Of course, I can only imagine there is much to organize. Well, the boys must stay as long as possible to keep out of your way.”

“Well actually, that is why I am calling Margaret. I’d like the boys to come home.”

“Of course, you must want them with you. Well as soon as the funeral is all out of the way then we shall send them home.”

“Actually, I’d like them home tomorrow,” I paused and girded myself for the imminent disapproval, “in time for the funeral.”

        There was a heavy silence and I almost spoke again, believing the connection to have been lost, when Margaret Bancroft’s reproachful voice came down the line.

“Does John think that is a good idea Imogen?”

        I had weighed up what to say to such a question and it was tempting, simply to avoid any conflict, to simply say yes but in the end I had decided that honesty was the best policy.

“I have not spoken with John yet but you can be rest assured that he will support me in this Margaret.”

“Imogen, I must insist…”

“Margaret. I don’t wish to fall out with you on this matter and I am grateful to you for stepping in to look after them at such short notice.”

“Naturally…”

“…but the boys are old enough to pay their last respects to their grandfather. They were very fond of my father and in the circumstances I would like them to be at home.”

        I heard her draw breath for a further objection but I simply continued. “I will have Stokes wait for the 2 o’clock train, if you will be so kind.”

~o~

When John returned home that evening, rather than avoid him or be afraid of his silent disapproval, I was waiting for him in his study. I had only been in the room without him once before. It was before we had had the children and late one evening we had been sat together in the parlour. There had come the sound of breaking glass from upstairs. John had sprung into action and, taking me by the hand, he had pulled me behind him into the hall. A young Stokes was already mounting the stairs, a fire poker in hand and John whispered to him to wait. He had ushered me to the study and had kissed me and told me to stay. He had closed the door and turned the key in the lock. He had kept me safe, his most precious thing. The recollection was a fond one and when he opened the door, he looked many years older than the twelve that separated the memory from the present day. He looked surprised to see me but he regarded me kindly.

“Imogen?” he said. “It’s late. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk.”

       
I saw his shoulders droop as if he could think of nothing worse than to talk to me. The gesture made me feel very sad and alone.

“Mother called the office this evening,” he said. “Would this have anything to do with what you want to talk about?”

        Though I knew that she would, I felt my temper rise nonetheless.

“What did you say to her?” I asked.

        His shoulders dropped yet further and he sank into the chair in which I had myself sat only a few short nights ago and he had raged at me.

“I told her that you were under a lot of strain and that perhaps it would be best if the boys were to stay where they were for the time being. At least until after the funeral.” he added quickly.

        I did not feel angry, I had been expecting as much. I sat back on the desk and held the warm wood tightly beneath my fingers as I stared at him.

“Do you remember Wales?” I asked.

        John’s face remained drawn and he tipped his head back as he braced himself for a conversation he hadn’t seen coming.

“Of course,” he said. His tone was flat.

“Do you remember the river?”

“And the boat that
capsized? Of course I remember.”

“Capsized? You stood up so fast, the boat rocked for a full minute before I was pitched into the cold water.”

“It can’t have been that cold, it was summer!” he retorted. His face was softer but he remained guarded.

“I took a lungful of water. I thought I would drown but you saved me.”

        John looked at his me and shrugged his shoulders.

“The water was shallow. It was only waist deep.”

        I took his hand and shook my head at him.

“But you carried me anyway.”

        The silence in the room was full of our voices from every conversation we had ever had in this room and after a minute or so, the memory of them was deafening and I was grateful when John stood from his chair and, stepping forwards, took me in his arms and held me.

~o~

              When I reached my father’s house, there was already an air of dereliction. What furniture remained had been draped in white sheets and those fires which had once been lit with regularity were clean and cold. The only person who was left was Heston and he had not been expecting me. Having let myself in, I had found him sat in my father’s study, his head upon his hands. He had not heard my approach and I had the luxury of watching him for a few moments, unobserved. His was as familiar a face as my own father’s. I could not remember a day when I had not passed through Heston to see my father. Of a morning, he was upon the stair carrying some errand or other. Some paperwork, a newspaper, anything at all but all delivered with the same care and diligence as he treated his position. In some ways I suppose, I had seen more of this man before me than of my father and if I had not known my own father then how could I trust this man before me? So he had been my father’s man since he had transitioned from Alice to Avery? He must know something and I had come to find the last of the truths. I drew back silently from the frame and into the hall where I coughed and allowed Heston to rouse before I re-entered the room.

“Mrs. Bancroft!”

        He was unshaven and his suit was crumpled and he was apologetic from the off.

“Please. Forgive me. I was…I mean.” He looked at me apologetically, picking at his shirt front and glancing around to where his jacket hung on another chair back.

        I smiled at him and shook my head.

“Please. There is no need to
apologise. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t. I mean..., I didn’t know you would be coming back again today. I would have…” He looked about himself at the empty shelves of my father
’s study and his eyes took in the whole of the house from top to bottom as if he could see each of the floors now stripped of any memory of my father, my mother or me. The house would be sold to fetch the highest price. The money would be placed in trust for Sebastian and Thomas and the rest conferred amongst myself, Heston and Mrs. Rooksmith and the handful of charities to which my father was a benefactor. The house would no doubt be of some interest to those peculiar people who made other people’s lives more interesting than their own but in a few short days there would be nothing left of my fathers’.

             
“Can I offer you something?” he looked around him. “Some refreshment? I will see if there is something I can …”

             
“Can we sit for a while?” I indicated the leather chair he had just vacated and I drew up a chair before it and placed my bag on the desk. The small and only fire that was lit was dying and I drew my coat around me. Old habits died hard and noticing that small gesture, he quickly assembled some more wood upon the embers and, within a few moments, the fire had recovered its appetite. Heston, pleased to have satisfied at least some small service, sat more comfortably alongside me. The room began to settle around us as some warmth began to infuse the bare boards and furniture with life.  A few faint creaks gave an impression that we were not alone and that there was no silence to break. After a time, the familiar smell of the room gave me some comfort and, though my feet were still like ice, I could feel myself begin to thaw. I glanced at Heston beside me and he was transfixed with the orange tongue of the fire licking around the fresh logs and he seemed to be somewhere else entirely.  He, no doubt more uncomfortable than I with the situation, was the first to interject his thoughts into the emptiness of the room.

“The first time I saw your father was when he came out of a shabby thoroughfare round by the Seven Dials accompanied by my employer at the time, John Goodwin, and a mutual friend of theirs. It was in the early hours of the morning and I had been waiting at the agreed spot for almost an hour. It was an unseemly place to be and I was glad of the driver for company. He was a large man and always carried a pistol after some trouble working for another employer in the North West. I had known my master would be three sheets to the wind by the time had found his way to us. He was out with this particular school chum of his whose influence the whole household had come to despise,”’ he looked across at me and nodded. “A life of service is a great pleasure but there are a few individuals whose actions are as reprehensible as an animals. I have had occasion to only happen upon one such character in all my days and, that first evening I met your father, he was also in the same man
’s company. When I saw my drink weary charge staggering out of the alleyway with that man in tow, I was not surprised, but when I saw a third man following closely, I was taken immediately by him. He was brighter eyed than the others as if he had not been drinking. He held himself tightly and was cautious to every noise and shadow as if each was reaching for the edge of his coat. He did not seem scared, only cautious. I watched how he looked at my employer and I was taken by his concern. He was careful to make sure we were known to one another and that he would be taken care of. I was touched more greatly I think that, by contrast, this old school friend was oblivious to any such notion and was merely looking around for the next diversion.”

       
I waited whilst Heston paused for breath and collected his thoughts.

             
‘As the carriage drove off into the night, I turned to look at the stranger one more time and from under the gas light, he looked ghostly. His dark hair and dark coat seemed to fade into the shadow around him, leaving only a slight form of grey. He was looking directly at me and those deep eyes seemed shot like silver and my heart rose into my throat. He looked ethereal and in the days that followed I found myself thinking of him frequently. It may sound odd to you but there was something about him which was magnetic.”

       
The silence was replaced with a rushing noise as I became all to aware of the way the cold air was being sucked into the room towards the fire. What did Heston mean, was he in love with my father? The old man continued as if his thoughts were nothing more than a matter of a misplaced table ring.

“Mr. Goodwin spoke of Avery all the time and
I found myself more interested than usual with his exploits. I think he was suspicious of Avery but he could not place his finger on why. He talked about him as though he were a riddle which he must solve and far from forgetting the enigmatic young man, I found myself becoming infatuated with him. I know that this may sound strange but Goodwin admitted to finding Silver attractive and repulsive at the same time; he was charmed and bothered by him; confused but drawn to him. In turn, I decided that I must find out more about this young man and, of my own volition, I decided to follow him home one day. I waited outside Cleveland Street one evening and followed Silver home in a cab. Oddly, he alighted several streets away from his home and I was forced to follow him from the shadows, skulking like a predator.  I watched from a distance as he entered the house through the servant’s entrance and I made a note of the address. When I returned to the house a few days later, I waited in the gardens opposite but never saw any sign of him.

“
The first time we met properly was some two months later, after his father’s funeral. I caught sight of an announcement in the local society news of the death of a man leaving a grieving daughter, Alice Silver and my interest was roused. The address of the man was the same as the house I had seen Avery return to. I wondered whether Avery had been his son and decided to go to the funeral. When I arrived, I stood a decent distance back from the congregation and at first I was disappointed that there was no sign of him and then I caught sight of a young woman, dressed in a long black skirt, coat and large brimmed hat. Her face was familiar and I assumed she was the daughter. As for Avery, I could see no sign. After about a quarter of an hour, as soon as the earth had struck the coffin, the young woman walked away from the rest of the mourners and found her own way from the graveyard and I was tempted to take my leave empty handed. But then I caught another glance of her as she passed me by and her face was more than familiar. I was convinced that the woman was Avery. Having thought of him over several weeks, I decided I must know and I decided to find out for sure. I followed at a distance at first but by the time we reached the main road I seized my chance. On an instinct, I called out to him.