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Authors: Lucinda Riley

Tags: #Historical, #Contemporary, #Romance

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BOOK: Hothouse Flower
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‘I didn’t – I don’t know – Olivia, maybe you don’t understand, but at school –’

‘I don’t care what happened at school!’ She looked at him in disgust. ‘You are married now, with a wife! How could you allow me to waste my life with you, knowing that you had feelings for men and could never really love me? I know you are shy, Harry, but I didn’t think you were cruel.’

‘Please, I promise you, Olivia, I do have feelings for you. And after last night, I know that – what you saw – it’s not for me, really.’

‘Oh, how jolly convenient for you to say so, now you’ve been discovered,’ she threw back. ‘You do realise you could be thrown out of the Army in disgrace for this? And your parents, your poor parents.’ She shook her head. ‘Your mother keeps asking me when I’m going to produce the next heir. Harry,’ she said, as the last of her reserve crumbled, ‘how can I bear this?’

‘Darling, please don’t cry.’ He made to come over to her, but she put her arms out in front of her.

‘I said,
don’t touch me
!’

Harry walked back to the chair and sank down into it. They sat in silence for a while.

‘You know,’ said Harry eventually, ‘it’s not completely unusual for men to struggle with – who they
are
, Olivia. And I promise you, my darling, after last night, I know who I am now. And please, if you’d let me, I wish to make it up to you, make our marriage work. I accept last night was very wrong, but I honestly did it with the best of intentions, if you’d only let me explain how –’

‘Please,’ Olivia shuddered, ‘spare me the details. Forgive me for not wanting to enter your grubby little world.’ She gave a long sigh. ‘I think, when we have both calmed down, we must discuss what we must do. I have to decide whether I can live with this.’ She looked up at him. ‘If I can’t, Harry, will you grant me a divorce?’

Harry looked horrified. ‘There’s never been a divorce in our family.’

‘Maybe there’s never been a homosexual in your family!’ She spoke the word bluntly, saw Harry flinch and enjoyed it.

‘Please stop saying that, Olivia!’ he begged. ‘Truly, it’s not what I am. Yes, I did think for a time it was a possibility, which was why I needed to find out. But really, darling girl, believe me, I’m not. So many things have become clearer in my mind today. And that’s the very reason why I came to you tonight. I wanted to finally consummate our marriage.’

‘That’s awfully noble of you, Harry,’ Olivia was suddenly exhausted, ‘but I’m afraid I don’t believe you. I don’t think you love me and I wish I’d never fallen in love with you. Now, please, we have another long day tomorrow and I must try to get some sleep.’ She looked up at him. ‘And I want you to promise me one thing.’

‘Anything, Olivia, darling, really.’

‘I want you to promise me that you won’t come near me or touch me whilst I think what to do.’

‘Of course,’ he agreed sadly, ‘I understand.’

22

In the weeks that followed, Olivia needn’t have worried about Harry touching her. Harry was barely home. He was out with his men, working round the clock manning the North Norfolk coastal defences. Food rationing had begun in earnest, and the Ministry of Agriculture had visited Wharton Park to discuss the fallow fields that should be turned over to growing further crops and vegetables.

Olivia had visited the local recruiting station to sign up as a Wren. But when they heard she lived at Wharton Park, the woman in charge had suggested to her that she might meet with the local head of the Women’s Land Army, to see if that would suit her better.

‘There’s going to be a number of girls billeted at estates around the county, including yours. You might find, given your credentials, you’re just what the WLA needs.’

Olivia duly met with the woman concerned, who was thrilled at the prospect of having someone who’d be of a similar age to the girls and already living on an estate. Olivia took on the role of Organizing Secretary for the area, in charge of liaising with the local farms to discuss how many girls would be needed and where to billet them.

Between that and trying to help Adrienne keep the house itself going on what was fast becoming a skeleton staff, Olivia was extremely busy. The fact she had not a moment to think helped her to bury the pain of what had happened, and the hole it had torn in her heart. This wasn’t a time to think of herself, or the future. There was an ironic comfort in the situation and she managed to take each day as it came. Besides, at least now she knew the reason ‘why’, and that helped enormously.

Harry had done all he could, in the rare time he had, to convince her of his love. He copied out, in his exquisite writing, her favourite romantic poems and left them for her under her bedroom door, had flowers from the hothouse delivered to her daily, so that their suite of rooms basked permanently in a fragrant smell, ordered packages of books he knew she particularly liked and had them sent from London.

It was exactly the kind of behaviour she had wanted from him when they were courting. But now … it meant nothing.

Her heart was numb.

The Land Girls assigned to Wharton Park arrived by bus at the beginning of March. Olivia had been warned by the WLA representative that many of the girls were from industrial towns, with no idea of the job ahead of them. She had commandeered three workers’ cottages in the Quadrangle to house them. The cottages had been unoccupied for a number of years, pending renovation. They were damp and dark, but Olivia had set to, with the help of Elsie and others, to scrub and brighten the cottages, and make them habitable.

On the night the Land Girls arrived, they filed into the kitchen, all of them overawed at the size of the house. Olivia ate with them, hearing about where they’d come from and how ghastly the uniform was that they had to wear.

‘You should try them Aertex shirts, Mrs Crawford,’ said a girl with a strong Birmingham accent. ‘They scratch like no one’s business.’

‘And they’re too big for us,’ commented another girl. ‘I think the breeches were made for men, not women. We’re all going to look a sight tomorrow morning, aren’t we, girls!’

Everyone giggled and Olivia was glad to see they seemed like a good bunch. She’d had warnings from the WLA representative about the problems of girls who were complete strangers being billeted together and the cat-fighting that could ensue.

After supper, Olivia stood up and clapped her hands together for silence. ‘Now, girls, first of all, I want to say welcome to Wharton Park. It’s a beautiful estate in a lovely part of the country, and you should all count yourselves jolly lucky to have ended up here. Mr Combe will talk you through how you will be organized on the land, but I wanted to brief you about the domestic arrangements whilst you’re all staying here. Bread, milk and eggs will be provided for you in the cottages at breakfast time. Work will commence at eight o’clock and you are to assemble in the Quadrangle, where Mr Combe and his staff will give you your allotted tasks for the day. There’s to be one morning break of fifteen minutes then, at noon, a sandwich lunch will be sent down from the house to wherever you are working. The afternoon resumes at one o’clock, finishing at five, and supper will be provided here in this kitchen at six. We’d appreciate it if, between five and six, you would wash and change and not arrive up here in your muddy uniforms,’ Olivia smiled.

‘I’m going to wear me ball gown and tiara to eat me tea here, missus, never you fear,’ chirped one girl, to resounding laughter.

‘You will all have one day off a week,’ Olivia continued, ‘and that will be on a rota basis. There’s a bus to Cromer that leaves from the front drive at eleven a.m., if you wish to go into town for supplies. It returns at four thirty. There’s a copy of all these details in each of your cottages. Many of you will be unused to living in the country,’ she added. ‘There are no picture-houses or bright lights on your doorstep. I suggest you arrange amongst yourselves the evening’s entertainment – quiz nights, board games and such.’

Olivia saw the lack of enthusiasm at her suggestion, so she swiftly continued. ‘We’ve also decided to hold a Wharton Park knitting competition. My mother-in-law, Lady Crawford, is organizing socks, hats and scarves to be sent from Norfolk to our boys overseas. If you don’t know how to knit, you’ll be taught. And the girl who produces the most items within a one-month period, will get a pair of –’ she opened a paper bag that was on the table and pulled out its contents – ‘these.’

The girls ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ at the pair of nylon stockings Olivia was holding up. She was relieved to see that her carrot-and-stick technique had been the right approach.

As Olivia left the kitchen, Adrienne, who had been out of sorts all week, barely leaving her bedroom, was standing in the entrance hall. ‘Will you join me for a drink in the library, Olivia?’ she asked. ‘I certainly feel I need one.’

‘Of course,’ agreed Olivia, although she was exhausted after her long day and it was the last thing she felt like.

With Sable seconded to driving a tractor, Adrienne had to pour her own drinks. ‘Gin?’ she asked Olivia.

‘That would be absolutely marvellous,’ Olivia agreed, flopping into a chair.

‘How did it go with the girls? What are they like?’ Adrienne asked nervously, passing Olivia her drink and sitting down opposite her.

‘They seem like a nice sort, but I suppose one can never tell. They don’t have one jot of experience between them, but they’ll learn,’ said Olivia. ‘And any port in a storm …’

‘Yes,’ agreed Adrienne. ‘And whatever hardships we must face here, it is nothing compared to what our boys will face. And it will not be long, Olivia,’ she sighed. ‘But at least you and Harry have had more time than most.’

‘We have, yes,’ Olivia answered mechanically.

Adrienne stared at her daughter-in-law. ‘
Chérie
, I do not mean to interfere, but is all as it should be between you and Harry?’

‘Yes,’ nodded Olivia, a shiver of apprehension running through her at Adrienne’s gift for perception, ‘we enjoy what time we have.’

Adrienne looked at Olivia, searching her face. ‘Yes, perhaps it is because you see each other so little, as you say. But I have felt, when I have seen the two of you together, that there is some … distance between you.’

‘I’m sure you’re right, Adrienne.’ Olivia continued the train of thought which her mother-in-law had begun. ‘We’ve barely had more than a few hours together for the past few weeks.’

‘Well, perhaps if Harry has some leave, you two could go away together. After all, you did not have a honeymoon.’

The thought of being cloistered alone somewhere with Harry made Olivia feel physically sick. ‘Adrienne, I think we both realise our priorities are to the war effort. We have a lifetime together ahead of us.’

‘That is noble of both of you, Olivia, and –’ Adrienne shuddered – ‘let us pray that is right.’

Germany invaded Denmark and Norway in April, and the British campaign was commenced simultaneously. Yet, despite the dire backdrop of war, and the tension that existed as to when Germany would invade British shores, Olivia found she enjoyed her new life. The WLA kept her very busy and she’d become rather an expert at doing the ‘welcome’ meetings for the girls who arrived in the county, and sorting out their subsequent problems.

The Wharton Land Girls were, in the main, a jolly bunch, and when she ferried their sandwiches down at lunchtime she would often sit with them in the fields, enjoying their light-hearted banter. When she wasn’t looking after her girls, or dealing with a broken tractor, or returning a runaway pig to its pen, she was up at the house with Adrienne. The ballroom had become a collecting station for the hundreds of balaclavas, scarves and socks that the women of Norfolk were knitting to send to their boys. Ironically, Wharton Park was more alive than it had been before the war, with the girls popping in and out, and the women in the ballroom packing boxes of woollens.

Olivia had come to realise that Adrienne was extremely delicate. She would plead a headache at the slightest sign of a problem and retire to her room, sometimes for days. Olivia dreaded to think what would have happened to Wharton Park if she had not been there. And, more and more, the household staff were turning to her for instructions.

As winter turned to spring, the ‘Phoney War’ gave way to the real thing in earnest when Germany invaded France. They continued their domination of Europe in the Netherlands, then advanced westward through Belgium.

Harry moved, with the rest of his battalion, into the local boarding school in Holt. Due to the now very real threat of invasion, as Germany drew nearer to the English Channel, security along the Norfolk coast was on full alert.

At the end of May, the battle of Dunkirk began. Olivia spent the evenings huddled over the wireless in the Land Girls’ cottages, listening to the news. Two of the girls, Bridge and Mary, both had young men involved in the battle. Two days later, the broadcaster announced that Dunkirk was being evacuated and the British troops were being pulled out. There was no more joking and chatter, as everyone on the estate waited with bated breath to hear whether it would be successful.

When Winston Churchill, their new Prime Minister, broadcast his nightly address to the nation, and informed them that 338,000 men had been rescued from the beaches and harbours of Dunkirk, there was cheering and tears. Even though they all realised it was a dreadful defeat.

BOOK: Hothouse Flower
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