Whispers (27 page)

At that instant, a newborn baby’s wail filled the air and Jess stopped in her tracks. Seconds later the caravan door banged open and an old woman appeared, clutching the infant in her two hands. ‘It’s a boy!’ she boomed, holding the screaming infant aloft for them all to see. ‘An’ a right bonny lad he is, an’ all!’

Jess felt as if she was watching some strange documentary on television as the group surged forward and started to cheer. The old woman was one of the oddest characters she had ever seen. She was dressed in a gaudy skirt that whipped about her legs in the wind, and her hair was covered in a purple headscarf tied at the back of her neck. Huge gold hoops dangled from her ears and there were so many wrinkles on her face that it was impossible for Jess to even begin to guess how old she might be. She desperately wanted to advise the old woman to get the child back into the warm but felt reluctant to intrude on this strange ceremony, so she simply stood there gaping as the people one by one kissed the child before stepping back.

And then at last the old woman disappeared, slamming the door unceremoniously behind her, and the people began to trudge back to their vans across the sludgy ground. The rain was coming down in torrents now and Jess’s hair was plastered to her head. She felt moved by the birth that had just taken place and it made her think again about the child that she was carrying. She had wondered if she shouldn’t just book herself into a clinic and have an abortion without saying anything to Simon, but now she had grave concerns about that idea. It was a child, after all, even if it hadn’t been planned, and did she really have the right to take its life without telling her husband? It was as much his as hers at the end of the day, so she supposed he had a right to know about it. Not that she expected him to be too pleased about the idea. Simon had very much left the bringing up of the girls to her, and she guessed he would do the same with this one. He was very old-fashioned in some ways and believed that it was the woman’s place to rear the family while the man went out to work.

Jess’s head was whirling with all the things she had to contend with at present. One second she was thinking about Emile, and the way he had sweet-talked her, and then she was back in the bathroom in Paris again, staring down at the drugs he had intended Mel to smuggle back into the country. And now the unexpected news about the baby had
left
her wondering if she was coming or going! She felt as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders and was totally out of her depth. Things were almost as bad between her and Simon as they had been before they moved into the house, and she was wondering now if the move had been worth it. And yet . . . as she narrowed her eyes and peered through the sheeting rain, the house seemed to be beckoning to her just as it had the very first time she had set eyes on it.

That evening, she waited until the girls had finished eating and gone to their rooms to do their homework before hurrying into the dining room. It was as she spread a fine linen cloth across the highly polished mahogany table that she realised with a little start that this would be the first time that any of them had actually eaten in here. They usually ate at the large pine table in the kitchen, and up until now this had been nothing more than a show room, much like the other rooms that she had had decorated. Once the table was laid to her satisfaction with the finest silver cutlery and cut glass she stood back and smiled as the light from the overhead crystal chandelier cast a warm glow about the room. She had already placed a candelabra in the centre of the table but she would not light the candles until Simon put in an appearance, which would probably be much later if his recent track record was anything to go by. She then hurried back to the kitchen. She intended to cook all Simon’s favourites tonight and get him in a good mood before she told him her news.

Just as she had expected he arrived home well after seven o’clock, soaked to the skin and not in the best of humours. Even so she greeted him with a smile and helped him to peel his sodden coat off as he eyed her suspiciously.

‘What’s all this in aid of then?’ he questioned as he kicked his work boots off, spraying mud all across the tiles.

‘I thought it was about time we treated ourselves, so why don’t you nip up and get a quick shower? Your meal will be ready by the time you come down and we’re going to eat in the dining room.’

He raised an eyebrow but went to do as he was told. When he came back downstairs with his hair still damp but looking clean and tidy she ushered him into the dining room where he stared at the table in amazement while she rushed away to fetch the first course.

‘French onion soup!’ he remarked as she ladled some into his dish from a fine china tureen. ‘And home-made too, by the looks of it. Is it my birthday or our anniversary? Have I forgotten something?’

‘Not at all,’ she grinned. ‘I just thought it would be nice to do things in style for a change. But don’t get too used to it. I can’t promise this sort of treatment every night.’

He watched her as she started her meal. She had made a real effort tonight and looked very pretty in the little black dress and high-heeled shoes that she’d worn in Paris. Once again, she’d piled her hair on top of her head in loose curls and it made her look elegant and sophisticated.

‘The gypsy woman had her baby today,’ she informed him as Simon helped himself to a bread roll. ‘A little boy and he’s gorgeous.’

‘Good! Perhaps they’ll clear off now then,’ he retorted ungraciously. When he had finished his soup she brought in the main course, two large T-Bone steaks, a dish of salad and home-made French fries.

‘That was delicious,’ Simon told her when he’d eaten his fill. ‘Now what’s for pudding?’

‘You’ll see,’ she said, as she gathered the dirty plates and whipped them away. ‘Just wait there.’ She was back in no time with a home-made apple pie and a large jug of thick creamy custard.

‘Crikey, I reckon I might have died and gone to heaven,’ Simon laughed as she ladled a large slice onto a clean dish for him.

She smiled demurely as she refilled his wine glass and helped herself to a small slice. He ate his in minutes but held his hand up in defeat when she offered second helpings.

‘I couldn’t eat another thing or I’ll burst,’ he told her. ‘But now why don’t you tell me what this is all about, eh?’

‘Actually, there
is
something I need to talk to you about,’ she admitted as she poured coffee for them both.

He groaned. ‘Oh blimey, this sounds serious. I thought all this was too good to be true. Couldn’t it wait until later? I promised the lads I’d meet them for a drink tonight up at the Anchor.’

Annoyance flashed in Jess’s eyes. ‘Couldn’t you put it off just for once? You’ve been out almost every night since the girls and I got home from Paris.’

He peered at her over the rim of his cup. ‘Out with it then if it’s so important,’ he said impatiently.

Jess nervously pleated the edge of the tablecloth. ‘All right then . . . The thing is . . .’ She gulped deep in her throat as she looked him in the eye. ‘The thing is, I found out today that . . . that I’m pregnant.’

Simon coughed and spurted a mouthful of coffee all over the clean cloth as his eyes almost started from his head.

‘You’re
what
?’

Jess shrugged. ‘I’m pregnant – and believe me, I was as shocked as you are.’

‘I doubt that very much,’ he ground out as he wiped his mouth on a napkin. ‘How far on are you?’

‘I haven’t actually been to the doctor’s yet but I should think a couple of months or so,’ she said sheepishly, somehow feeling as if she had achieved this all by herself.

‘But I thought after Jo we agreed that we wouldn’t have any more kids,’ he roared, as anger replaced the shock of what she had just told him.

‘We did,’ she agreed. ‘And I didn’t plan this, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s knocked me for six, I don’t mind telling you.’

‘Aw well, it should be easy to sort if you’re only a couple of months,’ he retorted unfeelingly.

As the meaning of his words sank in, she stared at him in horror. ‘Are you saying you want me to get rid of it?’

‘Of course I am,’ he told her. ‘We agreed two was enough.’

‘But that was back then,’ she objected. ‘We barely had two pennies to rub together and we couldn’t afford any more children, but we’re better off now.’

‘Jo is twelve years old and Mel is fourteen now. How do you think they’d feel if we suddenly told them they were going to have a brother or sister? They’d probably be embarrassed to death.’

‘Why should they be?’ Jess retorted hotly. ‘We are
married
. It isn’t as if we’re doing anything wrong. Married people
do
have children.’

He shook his head. ‘Well, I certainly don’t want any more and if you want to go all through that baby palaver again, you must be mad. We’ll be a complete laughing stock!’

‘And since when have
you
ever been so concerned about what people will say?’ she roared back, realising that this was fast turning into an argument.

‘Since now!’ he spat. ‘So get rid of it, Jess, and do the sensible thing. We’re too old to be starting again.’

‘Too old?’ she gasped incredulously. ‘I’m only in my early thirties, Simon. Some career women don’t even
start
having children until they’re forty nowadays.’

He stood up so abruptly that he nearly overturned his chair. ‘This subject is not up for discussion,’ he said, ominously quietly. ‘I’ve told you how I feel, so deal with it.’

As he made to stride past her she caught at his arm with tears in her eyes. ‘Where are you going?’

‘
Out
! And when I get back I don’t want to talk about this any more.’

Sagging back into her seat she listened to the sound of the kitchen door slam, followed by the noise of his vehicle reversing erratically out of the courtyard again. And then she gave way to her tears. The worst part of it was the guilt she felt. After all, she had briefly considered having an abortion herself without even telling Simon about the pregnancy. But then she had seen the newborn gypsy baby and somehow she had known that she couldn’t go through with taking an innocent life for no good reason. As she began to calm down a little she tried to look at the situation more logically. Simon was bound to be shocked. She herself had been, so perhaps he just needed some time to come to terms with the idea? But one thing was for sure. The test had been positive. There was a baby growing inside her whether they liked it or not. She thought of the children that had been born in this very house many years ago – Miss Melody and Grace’s babies – and she wondered what had become of them. No doubt Martha’s journal would give her the answers.

It was then that she became aware of a noise and she cocked her head to one side as she listened intently. It sounded like someone whispering. But then she decided it was probably just the wind she could hear and set about clearing the table she had laid so carefully, and with such high hopes, earlier in the evening.

23 December

The young Master and Mistress’s guests have all arrived for Christmas now and I have never known the house to be so full. It is bursting at the seams and there don’t seem to be enough hours in the day to get everything done. Thankfully, many of Miss Melody’s staff from her other home have arrived to help out . . .

The girls’ first sight of Mrs Bloom, Miss Melody’s cook from her home in Herefordshire, who had come to help Phoebe with the cooking, terrified them. Mrs Bloom was enormous. She had hands as large as hams and arms that would have put an all-in wrestler’s to shame. She also had at least five chins and was very keen at barking out orders, but in a very short time they all discovered that her bark was far worse than her bite. On learning that Granny Reid was still ill in bed, Mrs Bloom instantly took it upon herself to make tasty snacks to tempt the old woman to eat at regular intervals throughout the day, even carrying them to Granny’s room herself where she would cajole and bully her into eating. One evening, Grace also caught her filling a basket of Christmas goodies for Joey to take home to his family, and from then on none of them were quite so afraid of her.

Another new addition to the household was Miss Wigg, Miss Melody’s housekeeper. A thin, stern-looking woman, she rarely smiled and would sweep about the house in a full-skirted bombazine dress with the keys to each room dangling from a chain about her waist, her salt-and-pepper-coloured hair twisted into two tight buns, one behind each ear.

‘I think she might ’ave been a beauty once,’ Grace commented as they all sat in the kitchen over lunch. ‘An’ the way she talks – she’s obviously from a good family. I bet she were slighted in love and reduced to bein’ a housekeeper.’

Mrs Bloom laughed, ‘I’ll say this fer yer, gel, yer’ve got a lively imagination. But I’m afraid I can’t tell you nowt. Miss Wigg keeps ’erself very much to ’erself, though to her credit she does a good job. So long as the staff do as they’re told, I reckon they won’t have a problem wi’ ’er. She’s firm, but she’s also fair, I think you’ll find. But what did the doctor ’ave to say about yer granny today after his visit?’ she asked Martha.

The girl’s face fell. Miss Melody had the doctor calling on Granny weekly now, but she still seemed to be fading away before their very eyes.

‘He was talkin’ to Miss Melody about her when I went up to check if he’d done,’ Martha said quietly. ‘An’ Miss Melody didn’t look none too pleased wi’ what she was hearin’. But when I asked how Gran was, she just flashed me that lovely smile an’ said that she was sure Granny would start to pick up as the weather improved in the spring. As much as I want to believe her, I have me doubts. Granny suddenly looks so old and fragile and she’s lost a frightening amount of weight. When me and Grace washed her yesterday, she weighed no more than a feather, did she, Grace?’

Grace sadly shook her head and Martha rushed on, ‘I know Phoebe an’ Mrs Bloom are sendin’ her up good food regularly, but the trouble is I have me jobs to do, so I can’t be wi’ her constantly an’ I don’t think she’s eating it.’