Too Close to the Sun (47 page)

‘Of course,’ he said moments later, ‘I didn’t mention to anyone what had happened. No one at all. How could I? I couldn’t possibly admit to such a thing. I remember telling the maid that her mistress would not be returning yet. And soon after that the maid left and was replaced, so I had no need to lie or go into the matter further. I hired a nurse for Sophie and we tried to get on with our lives. Sophie missed her mother, of course, but Bella was never the most caring and affectionate of mothers. Some women are just not. At the same time, children are very adaptable, and I honestly don’t think Sophie missed her mother for too long. Well, if she did,’ here he spread his hands in a little gesture of helplessness, ‘ – then it’s something I deeply regret. Not that I could do anything about it. Not a thing.’

He turned and looked at Grace now. ‘I did the best for Sophie that I could do,’ he said. ‘And I know I’ve made mistakes, but I did the best I could under the circumstances.’

Grace gave an almost imperceptible nod. ‘I’m sure you did.’

Kester was quiet for a moment or two, as if gathering his thoughts, then he went on: ‘It didn’t last, her affair with the
singer. I don’t think I expected it to. Not that I knew anything about it at the time. I didn’t hear anything more of her for some while. Years went by. And then she wrote to me. She was back in London, she said, and wished to see me. She asked me if she should come to the house. I wrote back at once saying that she must not. I couldn’t subject Sophie to any kind of – of drama. I told Bella that I would meet her. Which I did. We arranged to meet at Victoria Station. She was already there when I arrived. I noticed a change in her at once. And it wasn’t simply that she was older. There was a greater difference in her – one that had nothing to do with the time that had passed. She was still good-looking, but no longer beautiful. She was like a flower when it’s nearing the end of its season. Faded, overripe. We went into a hotel, to the bar there, and over drinks she told me her story. It didn’t all emerge easily; it came out in fits and starts, and bits and pieces. But I put it all together – which wasn’t difficult – and what a wretched story it made.’

He had turned his face away from Grace now, looking off again, seeing scenes from the past.

‘The story that I gathered was that she and her singer had parted after a time, and she had gone with a new friend. She didn’t name him and I didn’t ask. It wasn’t important. This one didn’t last either, and it wasn’t long before she was on to the third. She was drinking too. This much was evident when we sat in the bar. She was well accustomed to drinking, I could see that.’ He paused, took a breath. ‘But the worst was yet to come. It soon became apparent, no matter what words she used to try to hide it, that she had been … that she had been … selling herself.’ He closed his eyes tightly, hanging his head. ‘There’s no other way of putting it. She had become – she was no more than a … a common prostitute. Imagine, she was making a life for herself – if you can call it that – in that way. With any man
– indiscriminately.’ He lifted his head, opened his eyes and turned to Grace. ‘I don’t know how I can tell you this. And I can only say that you must never, never repeat what I say.’

‘Never,’ Grace said. ‘I promise you.’

He nodded, was silent a moment, then said, ‘And can you believe that she wanted to come back to us? I think she had the notion that if she said she was sorry and begged forgiveness, I would take her back, and once more she could be a wife to me and a mother to our child. Oh, make no mistake, I was cured of love for her by then. There was no chance that such a thing could happen.’

‘Did you tell her that?’

‘Yes. Though I think she found it hard to accept. I don’t know. She was – is – such an actress. She’s always been able to turn on the tears. In the beginning she was able to melt my heart – but in time I was cured of that too.’ His words came to a halt.

‘Where is she now?’

‘She’s in London, somewhere. I want her to keep away from Sophie and me. This is the reason we left London. She is the reason. I gave her money on two or three occasions, but I said she must never come to the house. But that wasn’t enough for her, the money. She wanted her old life back too. She didn’t give up on it. And in spite of my warnings she came to the house. Fortunately Sophie was out with the nurse. As soon as I saw Bella there at the door I took her away. She protested, but I didn’t care. I gave her money again, and I told her that if she ever came to the house again she would never get another penny. I made it clear, too, that her life with us was over. She had other ideas, though, and came to the house again. That was when I decided we must leave London and come to the country.’

‘Sophie, of course, knows absolutely nothing,’ Grace said.

‘Oh, my God, no. God forbid. She must never know. I let
it be understood that her mother was dead, that she had died of the cholera while we were in Naples. I have no regrets about lying, and I would do it again if necessary. I shall continue to do it for as long as I need. I have my daughter to think of. And she must never, never, know what her mother was – is. She’s just a child now, but one day she’ll be sought in marriage to some fine young man. And I want the best for her. Only the best is good enough for her. And I will not have her mother – or anyone for that matter – ruining her chances. She continues to believe that her mother is dead, and that suits me. Better that than the truth. The truth would destroy her and all her chances of happiness. And as long as I have the power I will never allow that to happen.’

For a brief moment Grace thought she could see in his eyes the glisten of unshed tears. But he turned his face away from her again.

‘So now you know,’ he said. ‘Now you know the reason I could not offer you marriage. And the irony is that I cannot even consider a divorce. As difficult as divorce is I would have chosen it rather than lie and be tied to her for ever. But a divorce would create such a scandal, and all the truth would come out about my wife, and that would be enough to finish Sophie’s chances in life. She would have no future at all. So you see, I have to stay married. I think the best I can hope for is that Bella does not come to bother us here. My work has suffered, of course, having to move like this – but if it protects Sophie’s future then that’s all that matters.’

Grace was silent. She could think of nothing to say. She had never imagined that his story could be anything like this.

A drop of rain fell on her cheek, and she suddenly realized that the skies had darkened.

Kester muttered, ‘It’s starting to rain,’ and, reaching out,
took her hand and drew her from the seat. Side by side they walked quickly over the grass towards the exit, and even as they moved out onto the street the rain stopped.

‘Hardly even a shower,’ Grace said.

They walked in silence for some moments, then Kester said, ‘You said you had to go to a particular shop.’

‘Yes, the draper’s, Seager’s.’

‘What are you doing after that? Returning to Asterleigh House?’

‘No – I’m staying with my aunt for a while. My Aunt Edie in Remmer Ridge.’

‘You wanted a little change of scene, did you?’

When she did not answer, he said: ‘I don’t know whether I should have told you all that. All that about my wife.’

‘I’m so glad you did.’

‘Yes. I had to, anyway. You had to know.’

Although the rain had stopped for now, the skies still looked threatening.

‘I’ll walk with you to Seager’s,’ Kester said.

She wanted to protest, but she could not find the words without giving too much away. So, keeping silent, she assented.

When they got to the nearest entrance to the draper’s shop, Grace turned to Kester and said, ‘I’ll finish my shopping now …’

‘I’ll wait for you,’ he said. He pointed to the teashop on the other side of the street, the one they had visited earlier for such a brief time. With an ironic smile he added, ‘It looks as if I’m bound to take some tea in there after all.’

Again Grace wanted to protest, but there were no words that she could find, even if she could have found a reason.

‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll join you in a little while. But then I must catch my train.’

‘How long will you be?’

‘Oh, twenty minutes perhaps. Half an hour.’

She turned then and went into the store and made her way to the department where they catered for bridal wear. The alterations were complete, she found, and once more she tried on the dress. In a small dressing room she stood before a full length glass, and saw before her a young woman in a long bridal gown with a veil made of the finest handmade lace. She was a bride. ‘Is there something wrong, miss?’ asked the middle-aged female assistant, adding with a little laugh: ‘You look almost a little sad.’ ‘No, no, everything is fine,’ Grace replied. ‘Miss – if I might suggest,’ said the assistant, ‘ – why not step outside where the light is better? You’ll get the full picture then …’ And Grace nodded acquiescence, and, with the woman holding up the skirts of the dress, moved out of the dressing room into the shop proper, and there stood in front of a different glass, briefly lifting the veil so that it framed her chestnut hair. ‘Everything is fine,’ Grace said, and the woman ohed and ahed over the dress and twitched at the skirt and the veil. Grace thanked her. Back in the dressing room she took off the dress and changed into her own street clothes. And the dress was wrapped and boxed, and the balance of her money was paid over and she left.

Outside the store, on the threshold of the teashop she hesitated. What purpose would it serve to see Kester again? As much as she wanted to see him, it could do no good whatever. In fact, she told herself, it could only do harm. Her feelings had not changed towards him, she realized that, but they had no future together; he had a wife, and no matter how much he might wish to, he could not, would not, give her up.

But then her steps were leading her into the teashop, and she looked around in the shaded interior and there was Kester, sitting at the table next to the one they had previously occupied, standing up as she turned and saw him, gravely smiling at her.

She reached his side and sat down on the chair he pulled out for her. The tablecloth was still bare. ‘Have you ordered anything yet?’ she said.

‘I ordered some tea. Just a minute ago. I only just got in here myself.’

She set the box containing her wedding dress on the empty chair beside them, and began to take off her gloves.

‘I saw,’ he said. His words came out bluntly.

‘What?’

‘I saw you – in Seager’s.’

‘What?’ she said. ‘I don’t understand. You say you –’

‘I saw you – in your wedding dress.’

She opened her mouth but no words came.

‘I saw you,’ he said again. ‘I saw you wearing your wedding dress.’

There was nothing for her to say. She was only aware that she regretted his knowing. Though of course he would have to have learned of it at some time.

‘You’re getting married,’ he said,’ and I never knew.’

She looked down at her cup.

‘I never dreamed,’ he said. ‘It’s the last thing I could have foreseen.’ He paused. ‘Why didn’t you tell me straight away?’

She could give no answer to this.

He sighed. ‘But of course, why should it not happen?’ he said. ‘Just because I’ve been moping about, thinking about past things, that’s no reason to think you might not be doing the same. Look at me, Grace, please.’

She raised her head now, turning to face him.

‘Am I to learn who it is?’ he said. ‘Who is the fortunate man – the most fortunate man who has so quickly captured your heart?’

‘Listen –’ she said. And then stopped, unable to continue.

‘Yes, go on,’ he said.

A few moments, and then, unable to put the moment off
any longer, she said, ‘I – I am to marry Mr Spencer. On Saturday.’

Silence followed her words for several moments, and during the time Kester looked at her with a half-frown on his brow. Then his mouth moved in the shadow of an ironic smile. ‘Mr Spencer. Edward Spencer.’ He shook his head. ‘How could I possibly have guessed such a thing?’ He leaned a little closer to her. ‘I can’t get over the sight of you there in the store. There I was, wandering in, just killing time while I waited for you, and suddenly there you were, in your wedding gown. I didn’t know it was you immediately. I just saw a girl in a veil come out of a small room and stand before a glass. And there was something about her figure, her carriage. And then she lifted the veil and I saw her face …’

‘Kester …’

‘But not the happiest face, I have to say. You were not smiling as a bride should smile. Not in my reckoning, anyway. And I wonder if Mr Spencer is smiling. No doubt he is. And indeed, why not? His wife has not so long been dead, but here he is about to walk down the aisle again. And this time with a beautiful and captivating young woman.’

She looked at him in horror. ‘Stop. Please stop.’

‘Ah,’ he said, ‘I’m in danger of being indelicate, am I? I’m sorry about that. Well, I suppose I should be congratulating you. Yes, indeed! My congratulations to you. And to Mr Spencer also.’

The sarcastic tone of his words was like a knife to her flesh. But she could find no words to say.

‘Well, I’m glad you’ve found love,’ he said after a moment. ‘I suppose I should be glad of that. After all, I couldn’t offer you anything more than that. And sometimes it isn’t enough.’ He paused. ‘And
have
you found love?’

Grace hesitated for just a moment then reached for her gloves.

‘Was that a difficult question for you to answer?’ he said. ‘It shouldn’t be. There should be only one answer and it should be given immediately, without a moment’s pause. Do I take it that you have not? That you have not found love – or at least that there is some doubt as to whether you have?’

With her gloves on, Grace picked up her bag and began to rise from her seat. At once Kester reached out and took her arm, staying her.

‘If you’re not marrying him for love, Grace, then what are you marrying him for?’

She felt tears of anger, shame and humiliation well up, stinging her eyes. ‘I can’t be forced to sit and listen to this,’ she said, her nostrils flaring, and still holding her bag, she went to remove his fingers from her wrist. At the first touch of pressure from her hand he released her and held up his hands, like a man demonstrating that he is unarmed.