The Girl from Cobb Street (36 page)

‘You were elated, and why not? You were about to marry a young officer, a cavalryman in the Indian Army. He was handsome and kind. He said and did everything that was wonderful. I began to think the husband waiting for you at Bombay was a veritable deity!’

‘But when you saw him, you knew differently. You knew him from the past.’

Grayson looked a trifle awkward. ‘I recognised him straight away, it’s true, but I couldn’t work out why the boy I’d known as Jack Minns was masquerading as Gerald Mortimer. I couldn’t work out either how he’d dared to marry such a sweet girl.’

‘But you never mentioned his double identity.’

‘How could I? He might well have changed his name legally, or he might have already confided in you. And even if you knew nothing, would you have believed what I told you or rather what your handsome husband swore was the truth? I knew he’d discredit anything I said. He’d always disliked me at Hanbury and I wasn’t going to give him the chance to call me a liar.’

‘He bullied you at school, didn’t he?’

Grayson nodded. ‘But why?’

‘Who knows? A chip on the shoulder perhaps? I came from the kind of family he wanted for himself. He knew the Hartes had been military people for generations and if they weren’t soldiers, they were administrators in India and if they weren’t administrators, they were businessmen. It wasn’t the kind of thing to endear me to a boy unhappy with his own upbringing.’

‘I can see that,’ she said slowly. ‘And it’s true he went to extraordinary lengths to give himself the background he craved. He changed his name, changed his history. He abandoned his family.’

‘That’s bad. Stupid as well.’

‘I was just as stupid not to realise he was false from the moment I met him.’

Grayson’s hand again locked her fingers in his. ‘How could you possibly have guessed? You were bound to accept everything he told you. Why wouldn’t you—you were young and in love.’

‘I still wish you’d told me what you knew about Gerald.’

‘And if I had?’

‘I probably wouldn’t have wanted to hear it,’ she sighed, ‘but perhaps I wouldn’t have felt quite so alone.’

‘I’m sorry now that I didn’t but I never felt you trusted me. You kept your secrets close—from the time we first met. I understand now why that was, but at the time you seemed intent on keeping me at arm’s length. When you fell on board ship, you looked so very ill but you were adamant there was nothing wrong. I wasn’t to call the ship’s doctor and all you needed was rest. Then when I saw you several days later, you didn’t appear fully recovered even to my unpractised eye. You were walking so cautiously around the deck, stopping at intervals and holding on to the guard rail. I remember asking you how you were, and you brushed me off, refusing to talk. It made me feel I should keep
my
distance. And when we met again in Jasirapur, I did just that—kept my distance.’

‘Except you didn’t. You were always popping up when I least expected it.’

‘I was keeping a benevolent eye on you.’

‘I found it very worrying.’

He leant forward on the deckchair as though checking he’d heard aright. ‘How can you have done?’

‘It made me suspicious of you. You always seemed to be where you shouldn’t and then you’d appear when I didn’t expect you.’ She wondered whether to make a full confession and decided she would be honest. It was right to rid herself of every one of the secrets she’d carried. ‘At one time I even thought you might have something to do with the accidents.’

At first he looked dumbfounded, and then aghast, but she ploughed on, ‘I never told you but I went back to the temple of Nandni Mata on my own and something happened there.’

‘What?’

‘Someone sent a large block of stone falling in my direction. It was Anish. I can see that now. He met me on the road shortly afterwards, and was careful to tell me that he’d seen
you
.’

‘Which he hadn’t. Is that why you ran away from me the night the monsoon broke?’

By now the deck had filled with a number of couples taking their daily exercise. Daisy looked around her and lowered her voice. ‘By then I wasn’t sure who I could trust.’

‘I was trying to warn you, that was all. Trying to tell you that you were heading in the wrong direction.’

‘And look what happened, when I didn’t heed you. But you still managed to find me.’

‘It took a while. And convincing the police to turn out in force was agonisingly slow. But yes, we tracked you down, thank God, just in time.’

‘I don’t think I ever thanked you for saving my life, Grayson,’ she said shyly.

‘You don’t have to.’

‘I think I do. I allowed my distrust to walk me down all the wrong tracks. You see, I couldn’t believe Gerald would ever allow harm to come to me, even when he was at his most horrid.’

‘And he didn’t. He played a crucial part in your rescue. He may have lost his fight with those men, but not before he’d managed to disrupt their whole ghastly business. Another delay that meant we reached you in time. In the end, he tried to do the right thing. You must remember that.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘You must,’ he said firmly.

‘I try to value Gerald, I really do, but it’s difficult.’ She glanced down at their entwined hands and attempted to put into words the confusing mix of emotions washing over her. ‘I feel guilty that I can’t think of him or his sacrifice as I should. I can’t stop feeling wronged. Gerald never let me forget he was forced into marrying me. It was the baby, you understand—and then there was no baby. And no real marriage.’

His hand tightened on hers and his voice was at its most gentle. ‘He didn’t know what was good for him.’

‘I think he did. I’ve had to face the truth though it’s been hard. He never loved me, not truly. Do you know what he called the weeks we spent together in London? “A bit of fun”.’

‘Then he was more of an idiot than I thought.’

He stood up and pulled her to her feet so that they stood only inches from each other. His finger was beneath her chin and he lifted her sorrowful face to his. ‘Believe me, Daisy, you are so much more than that.’

Several days later, they stood watching as the ship slid its way out of harbour, this time leaving Port Said behind and heading into the Mediterranean. Grayson had knocked at her cabin door early that morning, and together they’d climbed to the top deck and were now looking down at the soldiers who had been assembled below for a final parade. The band played rousingly, the troops marched and wheeled within the confines of their small parade ground and, at a given signal, every man threw his
topi
high into the air and out into the ocean.

‘This is where the East ends and the West begins,’ Grayson remarked. ‘The soldiers are marking the moment.’

Daisy craned her neck to watch the helmets bobbing away, out into the open sea. She had her own
topi
in her hand. ‘Should I throw mine too, do you think?’ It was the one that Anish had given her all those months ago and she’d not yet brought herself to relinquish it.

Grayson was deliberately non-committal. ‘It might serve as a farewell ritual.’

She took a deep breath and threw the
top
i as far out as she could, watching the battered helmet until it floated from sight. It carried with it all the hopes and dreams with which she’d come to India, but it was right to consign it to forgetfulness. There could be no looking back.

Grayson’s touch was light on her arm. ‘I must leave you, I’m afraid. I’ve any number of reports to finish. It’s a dismal task, but I know they’ll be demanded as soon as we dock.’

That wouldn’t be long, she realised. This journey, this transition from past to future, would soon be over and she would have to step ashore and begin life again. She hoped she would soon get used to the idea of England, of living once more in a bustling city, of becoming accustomed to grey skies and grey people. Right now, she had no certain idea of where she would go or what she would do.

‘When we get to Southampton, will you be travelling to London?’ She wasn’t sure why she wanted to know.

‘I will. I have to report to headquarters in person. After that I’ve no idea where I’ll be. The general outlook is grim and I imagine things in my unit will be pretty fluid. The country has caved in and handed over the Sudetenland to Hitler, but it won’t be enough. There won’t be peace, no matter how much Chamberlain craves it.’

Listening to the calm slap of the Mediterranean against the ship’s side, it was impossible to think that England could soon be at war again.

He looked down at her, a slight smile softening his face. ‘And will you be going to London too?’

‘I imagine so. I’ve nowhere else to go.’ Her tone was listless.

‘Perhaps Bridges will take you back,’ he suggested.

‘Perhaps they will.’

He seemed satisfied with this and turned to walk towards the companionway. But before he started down the stairs, he turned again. ‘Will you have dinner with me tonight?’

That took her by surprise and she found herself nodding in agreement before he disappeared from sight. As soon as he’d gone, she knew she’d been wrong to accept his invitation. She would be poor company. The thought they were now on the homeward stretch of their journey and the future was coming closer with every day, had begun to hang heavy. Despite what she’d said to Grayson, she couldn’t return to her old job, to the malicious whispers and the hard stares of girls who had rarely been friendly and often hostile. They would have plenty of ammunition now. They’d been outraged by her promotion from restaurant to perfumery, and it was clear they suspected she’d done something very bad to get there. Then she’d compounded her crime by being the first of them to find a husband, and not just any husband. She had left Bridges to marry extraordinarily well. She’d left to travel to one of the most exotic places on earth. And what had come of it? She’d been brought low and they would never let her forget the destruction of her dreams.

She couldn’t return to Bridges. She could face their disdain. It wasn’t that. She’d grown steely enough to do so with indifference. It was something far more fundamental. She could no longer pretend—about the orphanage, about being in service. Whatever else her ordeal in India had taught her, she’d earned the right to her own story and the right to feel proud of it. She no longer needed to fit in, no longer needed to feign what she wasn’t. And the person she was, belonged nowhere near Bridges.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

F
or the first time on the voyage, they met for dinner. Grayson had made a point of inviting her to eat with him and she made an effort to look her best. Now they were in a cooler climate, her hair had regained its glossy bounce but her cheeks were still unnaturally pale. She looked a wraith, she thought, and forced herself to use a pinch of rouge to give her face colour, then chose a frock she hoped would provide its own glow. It was the floral silk she’d bought for her wedding. She’d decided to wear it only after much heart-searching, and even now she feared she might be tempting fate. The garment seemed to have brought her nothing but bad luck and she hadn’t worn it since that unhappy evening at the Club. But instinct was telling her it was the right dress for the right time. She would wear it tonight to mark a turning point, the moment when she walked away from all the bad things that had happened and looked towards a brighter future. She could at least pretend it was so.

The meal was the usual ship’s fare and was quickly disposed of, but after they’d eaten Grayson suggested a short stroll along the deserted Promenade Deck. It was not what she’d expected and her first reaction was to retreat back into her cabin.

‘I’m a little tired,’ she demurred. ‘I think an early night might be a good idea.’

‘Half an hour’s walk is neither here nor there. And you’ve opted for an early night ever since we came on board. Come the evening, you’re nowhere to be seen.’

That was true enough. It was part of running away from the world, she supposed, of not wanting to face the future. And she shouldn’t be afraid of being with Grayson. They had talked now, cleared the air. That should give her courage.

‘A short walk then,’ she agreed.

Soon they were strolling the length of the Promenade Deck. From the ballroom below, the strains of a quickstep reached their ears, the echoes of the music following them as they walked towards the stern of the ship. The days were still warm, and at night a phosphorescent glow lay over the smooth water, disturbed only by the narrow, silver path cut by a waning moon. When they reached the white guard rails, they stopped to watch the wake of the speeding ship. Daisy leant over, fascinated by the endless green track that pursued them, a ceaseless, silken swish of double wave as the ship creamed its way ahead.

‘You can go back, you know,’ Grayson said into the silence. ‘Back to India.’

He had sensed her thoughts. He always surprised her in that. ‘What would I go back to?’

‘I’m not entirely sure, but I feel that somehow you’ve unfinished business there.’

She felt it, too, but the sentiment was too vague to speak of sensibly. ‘If you’re right about the coming war, there might not be an India to go back to.’