Tall Poppies (33 page)

Livia told him, ‘They spent several years in an orphanage, and this duty will help remind them that they're a part of a family. Our parents would have wanted that too. The alternative is to put the christening off for ten years, until the twins have grown up.'

The reverend gave in gracefully.

A few people stayed after the service to watch the ceremony, hoping to catch a glimpse of the baby. Mrs Anstruther was absent, having left that morning to spend some time with her daughter. Matthew Bugg brought old Bugg to the ceremony. He looked surprisingly spry with a drop of whisky inside him to ward off the cold.

Meggie behaved like an angel, quite happy to be the centre of attention, bestowing bountiful smiles on everyone and attracting comments. ‘She's a dear little thing,' and depending on the eyes of the observer, ‘so much like her grandmother-mother-sister-brother-father-grandfather.' Livia was glad that nobody thought to throw Denton's name into the ring.

And from those who thought they knew better, ‘Not really like anyone in the Sangster family. She must have jumped a generation.' Significant pause. ‘She has her own look  . . . don't you, dear?'

Meggie's angelic frame of mind lasted until the reverend sprinkled cold water on her head, then she heaved in an indignant breath and let out a roar that made the rafters rattle and set the candle flames flickering.

‘It's the holy water. It drives the devil out,' Florence told anyone who would listen.

A few people had been invited back to the cottage, including the Elliots, the Buggs, the midwife who'd attended Livia after the birth of Meggie, and the reverend. Connie had prepared a delicious buffet lunch, and after giving Meggie a feed to keep her happy, as well as fill her up, Livia helped Connie to carry the plates in.

Denton cornered her in the kitchen. ‘Have you read my letter?'

‘I have.'

‘And?'

‘It was a lovely letter, Denton; but this is not the time or place to talk.' It wasn't fair of her to keep him hanging on a thread much longer, and she must decide one way or another whether to cut him free. She kept telling herself that her deceit would never be found out, yet sometimes she felt as if the truth was tattooed all over her forehead.

‘When then?'

‘Can you make it tomorrow, in the afternoon? Connie has decided to go back with Beamish and Florence, to help them through the birth of the baby.' She grinned. ‘Connie's experience here has made her an expert. The children will be attending Suzanne's birthday party.'

He touched her face, his eyes searching hers, as if looking for a clue. His mouth took on a wry twist and he said quietly, ‘Bear in mind that I won't take no for an answer.'

Duly, Denton presented himself. He hadn't imagined Livia would put him through all this. He was a surgeon, a damned good one with a good future, and if he didn't love this difficult woman to death he would have walked away from such an indignity.

As it was he'd go on his knees and kiss her feet if that's what she wanted from him. But all the same, he felt uneasy. Nothing was going as he'd planned, and he wanted – and intended – to know the reason why. It was time to take the gloves off.

She landed her blow first, before he'd had time to put his case – one in the solar plexus that left him gasping like a stranded fish.

‘I'm sorry, Denton. If I'd received the letter a month or two earlier I would have accepted your proposal.'

He hit back, and more savagely than he'd intended. ‘Before Meggie made her presence known to you, do you mean?'

He hated himself when she flinched. The hurt he'd dealt her lingered on in her eyes, and he wondered if it was as agonizing as the hurt he felt.

‘No  . . . I meant before  . . . Richard.'

‘I'm a living, breathing man, and you're a living, breathing woman. I can stand playing second fiddle to Richard's shining star, but you've beatified him in your mind beyond reason. He's so perfect I can't compete with his bloody ghost. It's beyond my capabilities.'

When tears sprang to her eyes, he hated himself once more.

‘You're not in competition with anyone, and you'll never be second fiddle to him. You never have been. I just can't marry you.'

‘Why, for God's sake?'

Her eyes pleaded with him. ‘Don't ask me why.'

‘That's not good enough, Livia. All this time you've led me to believe you cared for me.'

‘I do care for you, more than you'll ever know. I just can't marry you.'

He gazed at her, frustrated beyond measure.

The telephone rang.

She gazed at it for a moment then lifted the receiver to her ear. Her face fell and she dropped the instrument on to the table and sank into the chair, ashen-faced.

He grabbed it up, wondering what the hell had induced that reaction in her. ‘This is Denton Elliot. I'm a doctor. Mrs Sangster can't answer your call at the moment. Can I be of help?'

‘It's Simon Stone. I've just received word that Major Henry has walked out of the hospital. He's not considered dangerous, but he's been without his medication for some time and could be confused or agitated. He could be heading for Foxglove House.'

The major was in a mental institution? It was the first he'd heard of it. ‘Does my father know? The major is his patient.'

‘Ah  . . . I'm not sure. I imagine the institution would have been in touch with him. It's not something the family would have wanted to get round, you understand.'

The major's family being Livia and Meggie, and that was a tenuous link at best. He gave Livia a glance, but she was gazing down at her hands, twisting her wedding ring around.

He had in his pocket an engagement ring he'd bought for her nearly two years ago. He'd never been given the chance of putting it on her finger.

He frowned. The news shouldn't have had such an effect on her. ‘Leave this with me, Mr Stone. I'll find Matthew Bugg and search the place, then call you back if we find anything. In the meantime my father can ring the institution and find out what medication he's on. It's probably a phenobarbital. If need be, I'll arrange for him to be driven back to the institution.'

Denton rang his father and they discussed the matter. He turned to Livia afterwards. ‘My father has reminded me that we'll need your permission to enter Foxglove House. The major could be there.'

‘I have a key to the house. It's hanging on a hook on the kitchen dresser. Matthew stayed with his grandfather last night, so should be safe. I'll ring him and tell him to meet you there.'

Nobody answered the phone. ‘They must be out visiting, but I don't think Matthew will mind you going in and looking.'

‘Will you come with us?'

‘No. I can't leave Meggie here by herself, and she'll need to be fed when she wakes.'

He nodded.

‘Take care, Denton, especially if the major has been drinking, because when he's drunk he's strong, and he can't control himself.'

Denton had never known the major to be aggressive, and he found the statement slightly odd.

‘Is that why he ended up in an institution?'

‘I understand that he tried to shoot himself in the head after his wife left him. The neighbour heard the shot and called the police to investigate. He'd broken his wrist in the attempt.'

‘Why didn't you tell me?'

She shrugged. ‘Richard told me his father didn't visit him when he was in hospital. Major Henry was shamed by the thought of mental illness in the family, and that Richard might have been considered cowardly in the execution of his duty towards his country. I didn't think the major would have liked me to tell anyone.'

Exasperated, Denton said, ‘It was mental and physical fatigue in Richard's case. If he'd got help earlier it would probably have been less severe. If you saw what the soldiers went through in France, you'd understand.'

‘I don't need to have seen it, Denton. Richard talked in his sleep, and that was traumatic in itself.' She placed her hand on his wrist when his father's car skidded to a stop. ‘I don't know if there are any guns and ammunition at Foxglove House, and I couldn't bear it if you were hurt. Don't leave me worrying about you.'

In a wry twist of imagination, he pictured his own funeral with Richard's widow weeping copious tears all over his coffin. Now that would add flames to the fire of scandal. He grinned at her and snatched a kiss before she had time to stop him.

‘I'll be back, I promise,' he said.

To keep herself busy, Livia collected the eggs from the henhouse. Bertie followed her, dropping a stick at her feet.

‘So you want a game, do you?' She placed the basket of eggs down and threw the stick as far as she could, laughing when he raced after it in short leaps. Sidetracked by a smell, he went off into the undergrowth and Livia made her way to the house. He would scratch when he wanted to come in.

The door was swinging open. She wasn't usually so careless, because the cottage soon lost heat. She closed it and set about making some tea. She cut a slice of Connie's gingerbread cake and set it on the tray. It was nice not to be bossed around in her own kitchen, but she'd appreciated Connie's help, though.

Meggie was making gurgling noises in her pram, which was kept in the sitting room. About to place the basket of eggs in the larder, she heard the major's voice.

‘Has naughty Mummy left you all alone? I suppose she's gone off on that stupid horse of hers. Come and sit on Daddy's knee and he'll tell you a nice story.'

Livia's heart fell into the pit of her stomach and her mouth went dry. Dropping the eggs she snatched up a knife and edged towards the sitting room.

The major had Meggie on his lap, and she was gazing up at him, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

The major looked up when Livia went in, and smiled. ‘It's about time you came back, Margaret. Where were you? Richard needs feeding.'

‘Fetching the eggs,' she whispered, her mouth so dry with fear that she could barely get the words out.

‘You don't look pleased to see me.'

She swallowed. His mind was wandering, but she must try to make him understand. ‘I am pleased, but I'm not Margaret. I'm Livia. The baby is your granddaughter. Pass her over to me, please, Major Henry. I'll take her upstairs and change her napkin.'

‘I've been kept in a prison camp,' he told her. ‘They keep torturing me. But I won't tell them anything.'

Denton had forgotten the key to Foxglove House. Because his shoes were muddy, he took them off and left them on the back doorstep. Livia would be feeding Meggie by now. He opened the door and stepped inside, on to something sticky. Broken eggs! The mess oozed through his socks and up between his toes. A tea tray was on the table. He took a bite of the gingerbread.

Then he heard voices and froze.

‘Henry, I want you to hand my baby to me.' Livia sounded calm, but she was breathless, and there was an underlying fear.

‘It's my baby, too. It's Richard. I want to hold him.'

‘It isn't Richard. Richard is dead. Don't you remember, you attended his funeral. It's Meggie you're holding. She's your granddaughter. You can hold her again after she's had her feed.'

Meggie gave a cry, reminding her mother she had rights.

‘See  . . . you're making her upset.'

‘I know my own child when I see him. You're lying to make me confused, Margaret. You're going to leave the child and go to Tangiers. Then they'll take me away to that prison camp.'

‘I still have to feed the baby. Give her to me, Major. Please.'

Denton could hear the strain in her voice, and gazed through the crack of the door. The major was on the settee with Meggie on his lap. Livia was stood just a few inches from where he was, her back against the door. The arms at her side were balled into tight fists, and she had a kitchen knife in one of them, hidden against her skirt. She was nearly at breaking point.

He didn't want to frighten Livia any further, so he whispered, ‘It's Denton. Move to the right so I can open the door.'

He heard her breath expel, and she moved quickly. As the door swung open he took two strides forward and plucked Meggie from the major's lap.

Within seconds Livia had snatched the baby from him and was gone, her feet scurrying up the stairs. The bedroom door closed and a key was turned in the lock.

He heard the window open and she called out from up above, ‘Doctor Elliot, the major is here, with Denton. The back door is open.'

Denton tried to placate the confused Henry, who said, ‘I wouldn't have hurt my child.'

‘I know you wouldn't. You're not well, Major. You ran away from the hospital.'

‘All I wanted was to come home to my family, but I can't find them.'

His father came in, a smile on his face. ‘Hello, Major.'

‘Andrew Elliot  . . . glad to see you again.'

‘You're in a spot of trouble, I believe. I'll give you your medicine, then we can talk.'

‘I don't want to go back to that place.'

‘I'm afraid you must, Henry. Expose his arm while I prepare the medication, would you please, Denton.'

‘I thought I saw Margaret with Richard, but they've gone now,' Henry told him.

‘I expect your mind was wandering a bit, old chap. The pair of them are no longer with us. Margaret never recovered from that accident on the horse, you know. Richard went to school with Denton, they grew up together, if you recall.'

‘Yes  . . . I suppose they did.'

‘Your son died a hero.'

‘Richard served his country well,' the major said. ‘But who was that I saw?'

‘It's Richard's widow. Her name is Livia.'

‘She's a pretty little thing. Nice hips.'

The needle slid in with barely a prick. ‘Livia and Richard had a daughter together. That's who you saw, Livia Sangster and your baby granddaughter. Her name is Meggie.'