So Long At the Fair (45 page)

Abbie waved the subject away. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Oh, but it does matter,’ said the other. ‘What do you think I’m implying?’ She paused. ‘Well, if the cap fits, my dear . . .’

‘Mrs Hayward,’ Abbie said angrily, ‘if you –’

‘Enough!’ Mrs Hayward raised a hand, palm out. ‘I’ve never heard such insolence from an employee in all my life, and I’m not going to lie here and listen to any more of it. I think you’d better go back to your room. And while you’re there perhaps you’d do well to reflect on your position. For I’m certainly not going to employ someone who is insolent and impertinent, and who doesn’t know her place. When you’ve had a chance to think things over perhaps you’ll see your way to coming to me with your apology.’

‘Mrs Hayward,’ Abbie said, measuring her words, ‘it’s quite obvious that the two of us can no longer remain under the same roof. Therefore, rather than you use your energies to rant and rave at me, I suggest you put them to use in finding a new governess for your children.’

Mrs Hayward’s mouth fell open. Then, quickly composing herself she said, ‘You mean – you’re quitting your post?’

‘I mean exactly that. And I might also remind you that I was employed as a governess to your two little girls, not as a nursemaid to their mother.’

Mrs Hayward drew herself up in the bed. ‘How dare you speak to me like that!’

‘I do dare. With Florence and Mabel away I’m supposed to be on holiday. But if it were up to you I’d have very little time to myself. Look how you were the day before yesterday when we went shopping. You knew I had to get back to meet Dr Randolph, but you took all the time you could. And I know quite well that you were spying on me the night I got back from the theatre. When I opened the library door and saw you sitting there you were only pretending to be asleep. You were waiting for me to get back, weren’t you? And that’s why you went to my room this morning, too. It wasn’t because you wanted my help. Not a bit of it. You merely wanted to – to catch me out, as it were.’ She gave a contemptuous shake of her head. ‘And did you think that having done so you would now find me all guilt and contrition? Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, for I feel neither.’

Mrs Hayward opened her mouth to speak but Abbie went on, raising her voice, overriding her, ‘Why should you be so concerned about what I do in my own time? Why? Did you envy me going out, enjoying myself? Good heavens, it’s a rare thing for me in this house. When I’m not looking after Florence and Mabel I just seem to be at your beck and call. Well, it’s finished now. And as regards my staying out late, all you need to know is that I wasn’t bringing any kind of disgrace on your own good name. That you can be assured of. And that being understood, the rest is no concern of yours whatever.’

‘I’ve never been spoken to in this manner in all my life,’ Mrs Hayward said, her chin quivering.

‘Well, more’s the pity,’ Abbie said. ‘Because I’m sure it must be long overdue. I could say a lot of other things, but I think perhaps I’ve said enough. And now I’ll be going.’

As Abbie turned away Mrs Hayward said, ‘If you leave now you mustn’t think I’m going to pay you.’

Abbie turned back to face her. ‘I don’t care. It’s enough for me that I’m leaving your employment.’

‘Without references?’ said the other with a note of triumph in her voice. ‘Surely you don’t think I shall be giving you any kind of reference, do you? If so, you’ll wait till apples grow on pear trees.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of asking. And I’ll manage without them.’ With her words Abbie strode from the room.

Inside her own room she closed the door and stood leaning against it. Her heart was thumping so hard, while her knees felt weak, and as she pressed her hands together she realized that her palms were damp with perspiration. Outwardly she had been very brave with Mrs Hayward, yet inwardly it was a different story. For a moment she almost felt that she might cry, and she choked back the threatening tears; this was no time to give way; it was a time for action. She had just talked herself out of a job, had in effect talked herself out onto the street – and without references.

She sank down on her unmade bed and remained there in deep thought for some moments. Then, with a look of resolve, she got up and reached for her boots. Two minutes later she had left the house and was hurrying up the hill.

The dew was still on the grass as she crossed the common by the footpath – the path she and Louis had taken so leisurely in the small hours of that morning. Leaving the common, she hurried up the street that took her onto Streatham High Road and eventually, close by Streatham Hill railway station, to the Regency Hotel. Please, she prayed, let me be in time.

There was a hackney cab outside the hotel, and as she entered the vestibule she saw Louis standing at the desk. At the sound of her footsteps he turned.

‘Abbie!’ His expression was half-smile, half-frown. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Oh – Louis . . .’ She was so out of breath she could hardly speak.

He moved to her side. ‘Abbie, are you all right?’

‘Yes. Yes, I am – now.’ Her words came out in bursts. She gave a gasping little laugh. ‘I had to catch you before – before you left. I was so afraid I would be too late.’

‘Oh, Abbie. Sit down, do – before you fall down.’ He led her to a velvet-covered sofa at one side of the vestibule. ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’

‘Yes – absolutely.’

‘Is there anything you want? Can I get someone to bring you something?’

‘No, I’m all right.’ She gestured towards the desk. ‘You finish your business. I’ll sit here for a minute.’

‘I’m just paying my bill. I shan’t be a moment.’

She sat getting her breath back while Louis attended to his business at the desk. Turning her head, she caught sight of herself in a long mirror that hung nearby. The strings of her bonnet had come untied and her hair was coming down. What a sight she was, she thought. As she retied her bonnet strings Louis came back to her side. ‘You just got here in time,’ he said as he sat down next to her. ‘That’s my cab waiting at the door.’ He frowned, looking intensely into her eyes. ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’

‘Yes – apart from looking an absolute fright. I just got a look at myself in the glass. Not a pleasant sight first thing in the morning.’

He smiled. ‘You’d be a pleasant sight for me at any time.’ He paused, still eyeing her intently. ‘Well, tell me – what is this all about?’

‘Oh, Louis . . .’ She looked away from him. ‘You’ll think I’m mad – appearing out of the blue like this.’

‘I couldn’t ask for a nicer vision.’

‘Do you mean that?’

‘Of course I mean it. Abbie, what is this all about? Are you in trouble of some kind?’

‘No, but – oh, can you spare a few minutes before you leave for the station? I have to talk to you . . .’

He nodded, looked at his watch, then got up, raised a hand to the porter and said, ‘Please – will you go and tell my cab driver that I’ll be out in five minutes? Thank you.’ With that he took Abbie’s hand and led her into the lounge. There was no one else present and they sat facing one another on a soft, overstuffed sofa.

‘Now,’ Louis said, ‘tell me what it is.’

‘You did mean it, didn’t you?’ Abbie said. ‘What you said last night?’

‘What was that? We said many things as I recall.’

‘Oh – Louis . . .’ She gave a deep sigh. ‘I shouldn’t have come, I know it.’

‘For goodness’ sake, Abbie, what are you talking about?’

She took a breath. ‘Last night you asked me to marry you . . .’

‘And you told me you needed time to think it over.’

‘Well, I have – thought it over.’

He said nothing – just waited for her to go on.

‘I have,’ she said again, ‘– thought it over.’ She took another deep breath, then laid her hand over his own. ‘I came here to say that I’ve thought it over, and I will marry you, Louis. I’ll marry you just as soon as you like.’

‘Oh, Abbie,’ he breathed, ‘you’ve made me so happy. When I saw you I couldn’t imagine what it was that had brought you here so early. It did cross my mind that you had brought an answer to my proposal – but I didn’t really dare to hope.’ Putting his arms around her, he drew her to him, holding her near. Feeling his closeness, the strength of his arms, Abbie felt again that sense of safety and secureness that she had known when he had held her last night on the common. It was such a good feeling – not only in itself and for its own sake, but also coming after all the recent uncertainty in her life. And why should it not always be there, she said to herself. It could. For she would forget Arthur – indeed, she had no choice, for he was now a part of her past. And commitment to a new life, a life with Louis, would be in part an affirmation of her determination to find a different future for herself. Yes, marriage with Louis . . . it was, she told herself, the best thing – the right thing – for her to do.

And even as she remained in the circle of Louis’s arms she found herself stabbed by guilt. He deserved to know the truth. He had to. Abruptly drawing back out of his grasp, she said, ‘Louis, this is no good – I haven’t been totally honest with you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I – I have to tell you what happened.’

‘I don’t understand . . .’

She told him then of the scene with Mrs Hayward and that she had quit her position in the household. ‘This isn’t the way you’d want it,’ she said,’– my acceptance of your proposal. I mean – if I don’t marry you I’m out on the street with no job and nowhere to stay. You could say I wasn’t faced with the most difficult choice. Please – forget it – forget that I said yes. It’s not right. It’s just not right.’

‘Right?’ he said. ‘Oh, Abbie, we’ll make it right. Listen, I’m just glad that you’re willing to marry me. Don’t change your mind.’ He took her hands in his. ‘Believe me, I do realize that your decision hasn’t been prompted by any wild passion for me. More’s the pity, but there it is. I didn’t expect it to be. And if it took a little push from your Mrs Hayward to concentrate your mind and get you to reach the right decision then I’m not going to be critical. I might even send her some flowers.’

‘Louis – be serious, please.’

‘Of course.’ He gave a little chuckle. ‘Abbie, you must allow me some levity. After all, you’re going to marry me. I’ve got what I wanted.’ He gazed at her for a moment or two longer, then said, ‘Now – we must be practical. I think we should marry soon, don’t you?’

She nodded. ‘All right . . .’

‘Well, I don’t see any point in waiting. I’ll take you back to Mrs Hayward’s house now, so that you can pick up your things. Then we’ll go to Paddington and get the first available train to Frome. Can you stay with your brother in Flaxdown while the banns are called?’

‘Yes, I should think so.’

‘Fine.’ He got to his feet, drawing her up beside him. Holding her close, he kissed her briefly on the mouth. ‘Now,’ he said as he released her, ‘we must get busy. We have a great deal to do.’ Taking her arm he linked it in the crook of his own and led her towards the vestibule. As they reached the doorway he smiled down at her. ‘Oh, Abigail,’ he said, ‘you’ve made me the happiest man.’

PART FIVE

Chapter Twenty-Eight

‘Oh, Mama, can’t I come with you?’

Abbie was sitting at her dressing table, doing her hair when Oliver’s small, pleading voice came to her. She turned and bent to him.

‘I’m sorry, darling. It’s too cold out today. You stay home in the warm with Maria.’ As she spoke she glanced at the young nursemaid who hovered in the background. ‘I shan’t be late back.’

She smiled encouragingly and the child gave a resigned sigh and turned away. Oliver was two years and eight months old. He was a bright, clever little boy in whose dark hair and blue-grey eyes Louis could clearly be seen.

Louis entered the room, wearing his overcoat and hat. ‘Are you nearly ready?’ he said to Abbie. ‘I’ve hitched up the carriage.’

As Abbie murmured that she was ready but for her hair he turned to his son and lifted him up. ‘And a little kiss for your papa? To keep him warm on the road?’

Oliver pressed his lips to his father’s cheek, then asked, ‘Can I come with you?’

Abbie smiled. ‘I’ve already told him it’s not possible.’

‘I’m sorry, Ollie,’ Louis said. ‘We’ll go out another day.’ He set the boy down on the carpet and Maria came, took his hand and led him from the room. Louis checked his watch with the clock. ‘Abbie, we must go or I shall be late.’

She sighed. ‘Don’t you think they could manage without you for once?’

‘They’re expecting me and I must be there.’

‘Of course you must be there. When are you not.’

Louis said with a little sideways smile, ‘If I didn’t know you better I might think you wanted to spend the time with me. Fortunately, I’ve learned not to be so foolish.’ He looked at her as she finished pinning her hair; she was studiously ignoring his remark. ‘I’ll wait downstairs,’ he said.

When he had gone from the room Abbie sat there while the sound of his footfalls faded on the stairs.

Letting fall her hands, she gave a deep sigh. Things were not getting better between them. The situation seemed to her to be deteriorating by the day. And Louis must feel the same way, she thought. He had to; it was obvious even to someone less perceptive than he.

Last night had marked another turning point. She had had one of her nightmares. The same dream, the dream where the weight was in her arms, and she had been unable to put it down. She had cried out in her sleep, ‘No, no . . .’ waking and sitting bolt upright. Then Louis’s arms had come around her. But tentatively, not with certainty, as would once have been the case – for now he was never sure that there would be no rebuff. And true to her form of late, she had given him the rebuff that he had half expected, brushing aside his would-be comforting arms with a frown of irritation. ‘It’s all right. I shall be all right.’