The Lie (35 page)

‘He's a prisoner,' her mother said, and handed her the telegram. ‘His name has just come through on the Red Cross lists apparently. They are going to write and tell you more about it.'

‘Dan is a prisoner of war?' Alice stared at her mother, disbelief mingling with the joy. ‘Oh, Mum  . . . oh, Mum  . . .' she whispered, as the tears poured down her cheeks. ‘Oh, Mum, he isn't dead  . . . he's alive!'

‘That's what it says.' Mrs Robinson was grinning from ear to ear, as if it was her personal triumph, as if she'd always known he was alive. ‘Well, he's in the best place, lass. All he has to do is sit tight and wait it out now. The war can't go on for ever, can it? He'll be home before you know it.'

‘Oh, Mum  . . .' Alice felt the relief and happiness washing through her like a great tidal wave. ‘Dan isn't dead. He's coming home  . . . he's coming home when the war is over.'

Mrs Robinson looked down at her grandson, who was sleeping now, smiling, his little fist curled against his cheek. ‘Ah, the little love,' she said. ‘Won't your daddy be surprised when he sees you?'

Alice pulled a wry face. ‘I'm sorry he woke you, Mum. I know it's early. I was thinking of telling Jim I would take his cottage but now  . . .'

‘You'll do no such thing,' her mother said. ‘Whatever next, Alice? You'll stay here with us where you belong, my girl. Your father will help Dan to get a house when he comes back. Save your money for then.'

‘But I thought we might be disturbing you?'

‘I'll put up with a lot more before I throw my daughter out,' Mrs Robinson said. ‘Besides, he's such a love most of the time. I should miss him if he went. No, you stop here with us until Dan comes back. It's what your father wants. He would be most upset if you left us.'

‘Oh, Mum,' Alice said, and hugged her. ‘Oh, Mum, I do love you.' The tears trickled down her face. ‘I'm so happy.'

‘Well, I should think so too,' her mother said, and reached for her handkerchief, blowing her nose noisily. ‘Well, this won't buy the baby a new dress, will it? I'll look after Danny this morning if you give your father a hand with the milking. He's got a bit of a chesty cough, and he won't ask, but he could do with some help.'

‘Of course I'll help,' Alice said. ‘I think Danny is over his tummy trouble now. I'll go and get changed then, and leave him to you.'

‘Yes, you do that,' Danny's grandmother said, and smiled her satisfaction as she bent over the cot. ‘He'll be all right with his granny, won't you, my love?'

Connor saw Alice cycling down the road as he made his way to school. She smiled, stopped and beckoned to him, and something in her face made him run to her at once.

‘It's Dan, isn't it?' he asked. ‘You've heard from him, haven't you?'

‘Not from Dan, though I may soon – but he's on the Red Cross lists, Connor. He's a prisoner in one of those camps in Germany. He's alive and will be coming home when the war is over.'

‘Yeah, great,' Connor said, and grinned at her. ‘I knew he was too clever to get himself killed. Thanks for telling me, Alice.'

‘I knew you would want to know,' Alice said, and reached out to ruffle his thick dark hair. It was very like his brother's and he would have all the girls after him in a few years. ‘When Dan comes home you can live with us, help in the garden and with his cars. You would like that, wouldn't you?'

‘Yeah, smashing.' Connor gave a yell of triumph. ‘You're all right, Alice. I'm glad our Dan married you.' And then he was off down the road yelling to her brother as he saw him at the school gate. ‘Dan's all right. He's a prisoner of war  . . .'

Alice smiled as she climbed back on her bike. Connor was happy, as Emily would be when she wrote to her. It was odd that she hadn't replied to her last letter with the pictures of Danny, but she would write again, just to make sure she'd got them. And she would go and see Frances that evening. Frances would pass the news on to the rest of her family. She was still on speaking terms with both Clay and Henry, who, the rumour went, did not speak to each other these days.

It was odd the way those two had fallen out, especially as Henry wasn't very well sometimes. He still hadn't got over his cough and his wife worried about him because he worked too hard. You would think that Clay would give his brother a hand on the farm now and then, but there was clearly a feud between them. Alice knew that Daniel had been worried about the farm when he was home; he had seemed to think that things were going badly wrong. Henry seemed to be managing to hang on for the moment, but he wasn't likely to tell his brother's wife or Frances if he was in trouble with money. Besides, times were hard all round. Henry would muddle through somehow and it would all come right – at least she hoped it would.

Alice shook her head. The farm wasn't something she could sort out. Even if Henry
had
got into debt again, the bank would surely wait until the war was over. Daniel would do that when he came home.

When he came home
 . . . The happiness bubbled up inside her again. When Danny came home, when Danny came home, the words formed into a marching tune inside her head.
When Danny comes marching home again, hurrah, hurrah.

Daniel would be coming home when the war ended, and everything was all right again.

Emily walked in through the garden entrance. She was carrying a bunch of dark red chrysanthemums that she had bought in the village after leaving the doctor's surgery. She smiled as she took them into the flower room and found a suitable vase. Having arranged them in water, she carried them through to the front parlour. She had just finished placing them on a table by the window when she heard a sound behind her and turned to find Vane watching her, a speculative look in his eyes.

‘You are back then, Emily?'

‘Yes, I'm back.'

‘Amelia said you had been to the doctor's?'

‘Yes. He has given me some news – good news, I think.' She raised her head, her heart beating a little faster.

‘I am glad to hear that, my dear. I was worried in case you were ill.' He looked so concerned for her that Emily's heart caught. How could she tell him that she was having another man's child?

‘No, I'm very well. But I do have something to tell you – and I'm not sure how you will feel about it.'

Vane held up his hand. ‘Before you say anything, let me tell you that I've been wanting to ask you if you will stay on here as Matron. I realize that you may not wish to live with us, though we would both love to have you here permanently, but it isn't a condition. I have a house in the village you could have if you wish – and of course there is the matter of Simon's legacy. He has a flat in London, which is yours, and some money  . . .'

‘I thank you for the offer,' Emily said, as he hesitated. ‘But I think you should hear what I have to say, Vane. You may not feel the same once you know the truth.' She drew a deep breath, her heart thumping. ‘I am having a baby but  . . .' the words caught in her throat as she saw that Amelia had come in and was giving her a beseeching look across the room. She hesitated and then it was too late as she saw the expression of delight in his eyes.

‘But of course, Emily. Amelia told me that you had hopes of giving us a grandchild. You must know that we could not be more delighted. It is the most wonderful news we could have, especially in the circumstances.'

Emily's resolution deserted her. How could she tell him now? She knew that she ought to speak out at once, because it was wrong to let him believe a lie – and yet she found that she could not destroy his last hope of an heir. She remembered wishing that she could do something to comfort him at the funeral, feeling the deep sense of loss that had overwhelmed him. Amelia had raised his hopes, it would be too cruel to dash them now.

‘You knew that Simon and I were planning to divorce?'

‘Yes, I knew that it would happen in time,' Vane said, and frowned. ‘He told me the day before he died. I did not approve of his relationship with that man, but I tried to understand – at the end, I really did try. He told me how well you had taken it and I knew that I could do no less. If you could accept their relationship then so must I, my dear.' He sighed heavily and shook his head.

‘It couldn't have been easy for you,' Emily said. ‘This house – your name and traditions – they mean so much to you.'

‘Yes, my dear – and now you have given me everything I ever wanted. I shall be honest and tell you that although the money is mine to leave as I please, this house, the estate and the title would pass to a distant cousin if there was no heir.'

‘I can't be certain of having a boy, Vane.' Emily's heart was racing and she could hardly look at him, because she felt so awful about deceiving him.

‘No, of course not, my dear – but if your child should be a girl I am going to try and break the entail.'

‘Can you do that?'

‘Yes, if I pay enough,' Vane said. ‘Don't look so worried, Emily. I have great hopes that your child will be a son.' He frowned slightly as he saw that she was still uncertain. ‘Forgive me. I know you feel that I have been too dominant in this business of Simon's treatment  . . .'

‘No, I don't feel that way any longer. I resented it when you seemed to take over my life after Simon was wounded – but I was confused, hurt, lost. I knew that something was wrong with our marriage, but I didn't understand. That has all gone now. I've forgiven Simon and I've learned to know you and to care for you. And I love my work here.'

‘Then, will you consider staying on? Either here or in your own house?'

‘I should like to stay on,' Emily said, and smiled at him. She knew she would feel guilty when she was alone, because what she was doing was wicked. If her child was a son she would be party to a terrible lie and deception, but the die had been cast now, and she must learn to live with what she had done. ‘And here in the house if you don't mind.'

‘That would make Amelia very happy, and I should like it very much,' Vane said. ‘We shall enjoy having you and the baby, Emily. However, if your life changes and you want to move on  . . .'

‘No, I don't think so,' Emily told him. ‘I believe my life is here with you and our boys. I don't think I shall marry again. My work is enough for me, and of course I shall have my child.'

She had loved Terry very much, and at the moment there was a void inside her. She didn't think anyone else would ever fill that emptiness, and she owed it to this man to make a success of all that he was offering her.

‘You shouldn't say that, Emily.' Vane shook his head at her. ‘You are young and the world is full of people you haven't yet met, my dear. For the time being you will nest here with us and make our lives so much the richer, but one day you may spread your wings and fly away, and we shall applaud you when that happens.'

‘Thank you,' Emily said, and her eyes felt wet with tears. ‘You are truly kind.' She hesitated, then, ‘There is something else I wanted to ask, Vane. I've just heard that my brother Daniel is a prisoner of war and I wondered  . . . you know so many people, and you have influence  . . . Anything you could find out would be very welcome. Where he is, why it has been so long before they told us that he was a prisoner, that sort of thing.'

‘Yes, of course. It will be no trouble at all. I shall be pleased to be of help to you. If your brother is on a Red Cross list they will know all about him. It may take a few weeks, but I'll see if I can gee them up a bit for you.'

‘Thank you. I think I shall pop upstairs and lie down for an hour or so, and then this afternoon I shall go and see what is happening at the Dower House.'

Emily walked upstairs to her room. She had started to feel more tired than usual of late, but the doctor had told her it was quite natural for her to go through that stage.

‘Just rest when you feel you need it,' he had said, after examining her. ‘The tiredness will probably pass in a few weeks and you'll feel full of energy.'

She felt a flicker of unease. Vane was being so kind and she felt so guilty – and yet was it so very wrong to give him what he believed was a wonderful gift? He had suffered because of what he saw as his son's unsuitable behaviour, and now that son was dead. Vane was still vulnerable after his illness and to have told him the truth might have destroyed him. Or was she just making excuses for herself?

Emily slipped off her shoes and lay down, pulling a light cover over her. She closed her eyes, thinking about the future. Her life was here now, but there was something she needed to do. Carole had told her that Terry was buried in London. She would go up to visit his grave very soon, lay some flowers and close a door on the past.

Vane had spoken of her finding someone new one day, but she thought that unlikely. She had known love and she had loved. From now on she would think of her work and her child. She had a good home, friends, and something to live and work for. What more could she ask for?

For a moment the memory of Terry's face as he first saw her that day at the railway station in London came into her mind and she recalled the thrill it had given her, the wonderful feelings she had experienced in his arms. Was it possible that she might feel that again one day? That she might love again?

A tiny seed of hope was working its way into her mind, though she thought it foolish. Some people looked for love all their lives and never found it. She had known real love; it was too much to expect it to come her way a second time. No, she must be content with what she had, and that was surely enough.

The war could not last for ever, especially since the Americans had now mobilized against a common enemy. The Japanese had made a mistake bombing Pearl Harbor, but it might help shorten this terrible conflict. Sometimes the news was so bad that Vane shook his head over the newspaper and murmured of the unthinkable. But Emily could not believe that Germany would win. Surely something would happen to turn the tide their way? She refused to believe that so many of their brave men had given their lives for nothing. No, the war would be won and they would have peace again.