The Lie (6 page)

‘Me and Ken Briggs followed his brother John and Nora Roberts up on the banks last Sunday,' he said. ‘I think they were doing
it
. He had his hand up her dress and he was lying on top of her and moving funny. You know  . . .' He went through the motions and Connor laughed, his cheeks a bit red. ‘We couldn't see much though, because we had to keep our heads low and Ken was laughing fit to pee himself. If his brother had caught us he would have given us a good hiding. He's a right nasty bugger, especially if he's had a drink or two.'

‘Pity you couldn't see a bit more,' Connor said. ‘I don't know how to do it yet – do you?'

‘Nah,' Peter said, and grinned, willing to admit it now that Connor had admitted he didn't know either. ‘Alice says I'll know soon enough, when I'm ready.'

‘Do you think she's done it?'

‘With your Daniel?' Peter screwed up his face in thought. ‘Nah, I shouldn't think so – not yet, anywise. She's looking all soppy and singing all over the place, but it's too soon. Alice isn't like that Nora Roberts. Ken said his brother says she's anyone's. She'll let any of them do it for the price of a drink up the pub.'

‘I don't want a girl like that,' Connor said. ‘I'm glad your Alice isn't that way – and I hope she marries our Daniel. If this flipping war was over he could come home and things would be better. They might take me to live with them, and you could come too.'

‘Can't see my mum letting me go and live with them,' Peter said. ‘She likes me around all the time. I do my delivery for Johnson's Groceries on the bike and then she wants me to stop at home with her while Dad goes to the pub. We sit and eat cheese on toast by the fire for a special treat if we've got any left – crumpets too sometimes, with her own jam or honey when we can get it.'

‘Mother's boy!' Connor taunted, and yet he couldn't help envying his friend. It was a long time since he'd known what it was like to have a loving mother. Margaret certainly wasn't that, nor did he want her to be. He blamed her for his father's death, though he didn't have any real reason, but he was sure it was her fault in his own mind.

Peter grinned and aimed a punch at him. In another moment they were fighting on the ground, but not angrily, just in the way of friends, amusing themselves. Seeing them scrapping, a man passing called encouragement and laughed.

‘That's it, give him one, Peter lad. Them Searles can do with a bit of a lesson, stuck-up bastards. Heading for a fall, that's what they are.'

‘Shut your face, pig brain,' Peter yelled after him, incensed at the insult to his friend, and then went back into the fight with renewed vigour. It ended as swiftly as it had begun when Mrs Robinson came to the door and called to them.

‘Peter! Stop fighting with Connor at once! The two of you are more trouble than a pair of Bantam cocks, always scrapping. I want you to run an errand – and when you get back there will be a piece of cake for both of you, that's if Connor wants to stay for tea?'

‘Yes, please!' Both boys chorused together. It wasn't often there was cake for tea, though because their families had farms there were always some eggs and a bit of farm butter now and then. Peter gave Connor a hand up as they grinned at each other. It was good to be friends, good to be young, even if they did want answers to the burning question of how you did ‘it'.

Peter took the shopping list and his mother's money and they raced off up the street, trying to beat each other to the shop on the corner, trying to be first. It was a constant competition between them, but it made their lives more rewarding.

Alice watched from the front window as the boys went racing up the street and smiled to herself. They were good boys, both of them, and she liked Connor. She had been polishing the front-room furniture with the window open and she'd heard what they were talking about as she worked.

Those rogues, the things they did and said! It had made her cheeks burn when they were discussing her and Daniel, but she was amused and had gone on listening, even though perhaps she ought not to have. She was glad Connor liked her, but sad that he hated his stepmother. She quite liked Margaret Searles herself, though she'd seen something one day at the house before Robert died, something she'd kept to herself.

It would make a fine old scandal if folk knew that she'd seen Margaret in her stepson's arms. Clay had been kissing her in a way that seemed to suggest that he at least wanted a lot more than a mere kiss.

Alice didn't know if there was anything more between them, and she didn't want to. She thought it was not very nice – not exactly incestuous because there was no blood tie, but Margaret had been married to Clay's father. And now Robert was dead. Had he known that his wife and son had been kissing? Had he guessed there was something going on between them?

He would have been terribly upset, because he was a good man, a decent man – one of the finest, Alice's father said. She hadn't dared to breathe a word of this at home, because her mother would have stopped her going to Rathmere, and she liked helping out there sometimes. She saw a lot of wealthy people when Margaret had her parties, and she admired the elegant clothes they wore and their jewellery. She wasn't envious of them, but she enjoyed seeing the things they had, and she wanted to keep visiting the house. Especially now that Daniel was home.

She liked Daniel very much. Her brother had been right about that. They had kissed the night he took her to the pictures, outside her house when he walked her home, but it was just a little peck on the lips. Not at all passionate or demanding, but then he was pretty done in by the time they said goodnight.

She had felt a bit guilty, because he'd gone to Cambridge with her at her suggestion, and she'd apologized for making him do too much.

‘Don't be sorry,' Daniel had told her. ‘I enjoyed every minute and I want to do it again soon. When can I take you to Ely for the afternoon?'

‘Perhaps next week,' she said. ‘It depends what is happening – and how soon they tell me I'm officially a Land Army girl. I mostly help Dad with the pigs in the mornings, do a few chores in the house, and then I'm free in the afternoons unless Dad needs me on the tractor – or I come to your house.'

‘Margaret isn't having a party next week as far as I know,' Daniel said. ‘Let's say we'll go on Thursday if it's fine, shall we?'

‘Yes, all right,' she had agreed happily. ‘I like market day and we can do some shopping for Mum if she wants it.'

Alice looked around her mother's small parlour. It all looked neat and tidy the way she liked to see it, and smelled lovely of lavender polish. She had finished now for the day and thought she might go for a little walk up the street. After all, you never knew who you might see. She might even bump into Daniel if she was lucky.

It was nice that he wanted to see her again so soon, Alice thought. It was much too early to be thinking of marriage, though she did like him quite a lot  . . .

Three

M
argaret smiled as she stepped into the steaming hot bath. The water was well above the Government's recommended level, and perfumed with the expensive salts she liked. Robert had bought them for her when they met in London. They weren't easy to find these days, but then money could buy most things under the counter if one was enterprising enough. It was that she'd liked about Robert at the start. He had seemed rich, powerful and capable. She had wanted to make Michael jealous, but the whole thing had gone wrong somewhere along the line. She'd quarrelled with Michael, married Robert and ended up in this dump.

Not for much longer though, not if Clay came through for her. He had been hot for her from the beginning. She'd seen the lustful look in his eyes the first time they'd met, but she'd still had hopes of making it work with Robert then. However, he had proved more difficult to manage once they were married and his first lust had waned. He had wanted her desperately at the beginning, but she thought now that he'd never loved her. For Robert the land came first, and his children – particularly Emily, Daniel and Connor.

Robert hadn't trusted Clay, and he'd thought Henry a dull plodder. ‘Henry's good on the farm but he's not a businessman. Clay is much the same, though he's sly and he's got his eye out for the main chance. Daniel is the one I'd put my money on. Maybe Connor when he's older.'

Daniel had been safely out of the way then. He was home now, but probably wouldn't interfere. Besides, Clay would do anything to get into her bed. She knew the brothers wouldn't consult Frances or Emily, and Connor was too young. So it was just Clay and Henry – and Daniel, of course.

Margaret wasn't sure how he would react when he was told how much she wanted for her share of the land, and the house if she could get them to buy. She had no intention of mouldering in this wretched village for the rest of her life. She had considered leaving Robert just before he became ill. He had begun to bore her, as most things did in this place, and she'd started to flirt with Clay a little. She hadn't intended Robert to see her, though.

Margaret frowned, feeling a pang of guilt. The foolish man! It wasn't her fault that he'd neglected the cut on his leg. She'd told him to go to the doctor's but he'd turned his back on her deliberately, ignoring her as he had since that incident with his son.

‘It was your own fault!' she said out loud.

Robert's eyes haunted her sometimes. She had hidden his photographs in the drawer because she couldn't bear to look at him. His eyes seemed to accuse her, which was ridiculous, because she hadn't done anything that terrible. A little flirtation, a few kisses, were nothing, and she had no intention of taking it further. Even now, she was using Clay, stringing him along to get what she wanted. He thought she was waiting for a decent time to elapse, but as soon as she got her £20,000 she was off, back to London where there was a bit of life.

She had her eyes closed, enjoying the luxury of being alone in the house, and wasn't aware of the footsteps coming upstairs. When the bathroom door opened, she was brought out of her reverie with a start. At first she thought it must be Clay, and wished she had remembered to lock the door, and then, as she realized it was Daniel, she smiled. He looked so embarrassed, and yet he couldn't take his eyes off her.

‘I'm sorry,' he muttered. ‘I had no idea you were in here.'

‘My fault,' Margaret said. ‘I forgot to lock the door. I thought everyone was out.'

‘I was. I came back.'

He seemed glued to the floor, unable to move. Margaret rose from the bath, her body soft, slender and glowing from the warm water.

‘Would you hand me the towel?' She stood there unashamed, knowing it was probably the first time he'd seen a woman completely naked. He might still be a virgin, she thought, amused by his stunned expression. She took the towel from him, patting herself dry in a leisurely way before stepping out of the bath, then laughed softly. ‘It's all right. You can look all you want – or you can use the water yourself. It's still warm.'

‘I'm sorry. I should go.'

‘Why? It's too late for my modesty. I don't mind you staying, as long as you behave.'

‘I wouldn't  . . .'

Margaret was laughing inside. The poor boy was so embarrassed. He looked as if he might burst a blood vessel any minute!

‘Don't be shy.' She reached for his hand, carried it to her right breast, placing it over the firm, full, warm flesh. ‘Just so as you know what a real woman feels like.'

The spell was broken. She had gone too far. Margaret saw the horror in his eyes before he wrenched his hand back and turned away, slamming the door behind him as he left.

She frowned. She might just have made a mistake with Daniel. He was more like his father than she'd realized.

Daniel locked his bedroom door, leaning against it and breathing hard as he fought to control the surge of urgent need she had aroused in him. What the hell was the matter with him? It wasn't as if he didn't know how it was to have a woman that way; there had been a few, but most of them scrambled affairs in the back of a car or behind the shed on his father's farm, and none of them naked.

It was the shock of seeing her there like that – his father's wife – and the way she had just smiled instead of screaming at him or yelling at him to get out. And when she stood there, beads of water dripping off her, he had wanted to lick each pearl from her flesh with his tongue. Her body was so beautiful, soft and warm and very tempting. He had wanted her. The need had been urgent and powerful, and for a moment he had actually contemplated making love with her – his father's wife!

The feel of her breast had shocked him to sudden awareness of what he was doing and in that moment he had been sickened and disgusted by her behaviour and his own. He ought to have walked out the moment he realized she was in there, couldn't imagine why he hadn't done so. Yet his honesty forced him to admit that he had found her attractive from the first moment he'd seen her. Margaret was more than just attractive. She had that earthy sexuality that a lot of men found tantalizing, and he understood why his father, a widower for too many years, had fallen hard.

Daniel had been aware before this that he had pressing physical needs, which wouldn't be easy to satisfy here in the village. He could buy Nora Roberts a few drinks and then take her for a walk up the banks, of course, but he didn't fancy his chances with Alice much if he did – and he wasn't that desperate.

Alice was a decent girl, pretty, warm and exactly the sort of girl he would probably marry one day. Not that he had any thoughts of marriage yet. It wasn't right to marry while there was a war on; the girl might end up a widow before she'd hardly been a wife. Besides, Daniel had plans for his life, and he needed a few years after the war was over to get going.