Lizzie's Secret (18 page)

‘I don't care what anyone says or thinks,' Lizzie's voice rose sharply. ‘I can't stay here and have you look at me like that, Harry. I'd rather be dead…' Lizzie hit at his chest with bunched fists, tears streaming down her face, angry and miserable at the same time. ‘I hate you for thinking I'd do something like that… I wouldn't cheat you, but you hate me now and you won't believe me. She was right, I shouldn't have married…'

She threw herself back on the bed and curled into a ball of wretched misery. Harry touched her shoulder. ‘Please, Lizzie, don't cry. I can't bear to see you like this – and I don't hate you. I just feel so disappointed…'

Lizzie shrugged his hand off. ‘How do you think I feel? To know that I've been violated by someone I don't know – abused and beaten – and no one ever told me… I had a right to know.' She sat up suddenly, anger blazing out of her. ‘I had a right to know years ago.'

‘I'm so sorry for what happened to you…' Harry looked at her and then sat on the bed beside her. She saw that he was crying too. ‘I'm sorry for what you suffered and for the way you've been treated – and I'm sorry that I feel this way, but… I can't help it.'

He was hurt and bewildered. He didn't know what to do or say to her. She wished that she'd stopped the wedding and explained to him, but she'd been so mixed up, so hurt and distressed, refusing to believe that her aunt's words could be true.

She touched his hand, sadness replacing the anger which had died with his tears. Harry moved his hand away, as if he didn't want to be touched by her, and she drew back, hunching her knees to her chest.

‘What are we going to do?' she asked after a few moments of silence. ‘You don't want me now. I know you feel cheated because I'm not what you thought me…'

‘We can't split up just like that. No one would understand. My uncle would think I was a feckless idiot unless I told him the reason, and I couldn't do that – it wouldn't be fair to you, Lizzie.'

‘Thank you,' she said in a small voice. ‘I would rather people didn't know – I feel dirty, ashamed…'

‘No!' Harry's head came up at that and he took her hand in his, holding it. ‘You mustn't feel that way, Lizzie. You were not to blame. I don't blame you for what happened – but I worshipped my innocent lovely girl and now… I don't know how I feel.'

Lizzie still couldn't remember what had happened to her… why did it matter so much to him? Yet she could see that it did and her heart wept for his disappointment. Harry had thought her perfect and put her on a pedestal in his mind, and now she'd tumbled off.

‘I'll do what you want,' she said, humble now. ‘I wouldn't have hurt you for the world, but I don't think I can live with you if you look at me as if I were dirty .'

‘I'm sorry. It was just the shock. I think we have to see this week out and then I'll be back at my training and – we'll talk about the future next time I come home on leave. When I've had time to think.'

‘If that's what you want.' she said dully.

‘It will be all right. We're still friends, Lizzie. I know you didn't mean to cheat me. I could kill that witch for not telling you the truth long ago. What she did to you was unspeakable.'

‘I think it was the doctor's idea that I shouldn't be told until I remembered of my own accord and I never have. I see now that my aunt wanted to tell me long ago – she sometimes hinted things, but Uncle Jack always stopped her.'

‘Then he was as bad. Couldn't they see what might happen one day?'

‘Aunt Jane always said I shouldn't marry. I suppose she knew that no decent man would want me if he knew…'

‘Oh Lizzie,' Harry said and his hand crushed hers. ‘Please don't – that isn't true.'

‘Isn't it?' she asked, looking at him as the pain of the betrayal swept through him. ‘I thought you loved me, Harry – not some picture in your head. I didn't know that I'd been ruined, but surely if…' She shook her head. ‘I'll try to do what you want but it's impossible…'

He reached for his clothes and began to dress.

‘Where are you going?'

‘Out for a walk. I'm not sure what to do, Lizzie. I have to think about this carefully…' He hesitated, then, ‘You stay here until I get back and then we'll think of something.'

*

Lizzie sat staring at the door for hours, wondering where Harry was and whether he would return. She thought about packing her clothes and leaving, but there wasn't a train until the morning and she didn't feel like sitting on the station all night. Besides, what would Beth and her family think if Lizzie walked in when she was supposed to be on honeymoon? S

It was about three in the morning when Harry came back. She could see by his face that he was tired and strained, and her heart felt as if it were breaking. Lizzie hated herself for causing him this pain.

‘I've been thinking,' Harry said. ‘You were right when you said it would be impossible to carry on here as if nothing had happened. Perhaps one day I'll be able to accept it – but not yet. I'm going back to base, Lizzie –. I suggest you stay here and go home at the end of the week as planned…'

‘Stay here alone?' Lizzie stared at him in shock. How could he think she'd want to stay here now?

‘The room is paid for and I'll give you some money. You can enjoy the walks and the views. I know it's not great, but it's better than trying to go on with our honeymoon… isn't it?'

‘Yes, I suppose so,' Lizzie agreed, feeling torn apart by his manner. He was just throwing away all they had, as if it didn't matter. ‘What do I do then? Just go home as if we had a wonderful time?'

‘Yes. You can tell everyone I had to go straight off and return to work. No one has to know anything…'

‘And we just go on like that forever?'

‘Not forever,' Harry said. ‘Just until I've had time to come to terms with this – it will be all right in time, Lizzie. I'll get over it… enough to be friends anyway.'

‘You want to just be friends?' Lizzie felt as if she'd been run over by a steam roller. Nothing made sense to her anymore.

‘Surely you can manage that?' he said. ‘Perhaps one day I'll feel differently.'

‘You expect me to just sit at home and wait to be forgiven – as if I'd committed a crime?' Lizzie didn't know whether to weep for the pity of it or throw something at him and tell him to get out of her sight.

‘No, you haven't done anything wrong. I'm at fault. I should be able to forgive – but for the moment I can't…'

Lizzie watched as he collected his things from the wardrobe and drawers. She felt sick and empty and couldn't think of anything to say to stop him leaving her here in this place. The last thing she wanted to do was stay here alone.

Harry paused at the door with his suitcase in his hand and looked back.

‘I'm sorry, Lizzie,' he said. She didn't answer because there was nothing she could say.

After Harry had gone, Lizzie felt the coldness enter her heart. She was hurt and angry, her heart damaged by his behaviour. Yet she knew they could never have gone through a charade of a honeymoon. It was all so miserable – just as her aunt had said, but it needn't have been this way. If Lizzie had been told the truth sooner, she could have made her choice – either to stay single or to tell Harry her story.

Crying wasn't going to help her, but she'd made up her mind about one thing. She wasn't going for long walks on the cliffs alone. She was going back to London and the flat. She wouldn't go into work, but if anyone saw her she'd tell them Harry had been called back to his base…

*

In the end Lizzie spent two days at the hotel because, when she enquired at the station, there wasn't a train she could use her ticket for until the Thursday morning. It would be too expensive to buy another, so she stayed on until she could use her regular return ticket.

In London once more, she let herself into the flat and looked round, the pleasure she'd felt in making this into a home gone. Lizzie felt empty of any emotion. What had it all been about? Harry had been so sure that he loved her and then… But perhaps what she'd done was unforgivable?

She ought to have called off the wedding and told him what her aunt had blurted out that day – but it would've caused so much upset and she'd been so sure it was lies. Now her marriage was in ruins and Harry no longer loved her…

What was she going to do for the next few days? Lizzie didn't want to go straight back to work, because she knew everyone would look at her, and the more discerning would know she was lying. Ed would be certain to ask what was wrong and she didn't want to lie – and yet to tell the truth would shock him and shame her.

Lizzie picked up her sketchbook and looked at some of the more original hats she'd drawn. Perhaps now was the time to have a go at a few of them. She could pay a visit to a wholesaler and buy some materials and then amuse herself with her flights of fancy, as Ed called them.

She would visit the wholesaler and buy the materials she wanted, and she would get enough food to last her for another few days. The last thing she wanted was to bump into one of her friends in the market before she felt calm enough to go back to work – and she did want to work on some ideas of her own.

There was one in particular, a little hat made of fine straw, silk and lace that looked a bit like a witch's hat. She knew Bert Oliver would never let her make it on his time, but now she had time to spare she could experiment – at least it would fill a few empty hours… and she had to do something or she would go mad, because she couldn't forget that look of disappointment in Harry's eyes…

Beth caught the bus home after spending some time window shopping. She didn't want to buy anything because all her money would be needed for her nursing training. She'd been told that she would be accepted and given a list of things she needed to buy for herself. Her first uniforms would be provided free, but her shoes had to be bought out of her own money, and she'd been advised to buy good comfortable ones. She would also need books and money for her own use; though her accommodation would be free.

‘We make that restriction, because so many girls simply waltz in and out without giving notice. So we do not pay you until you've proved your worth – and the pay is one pound and fifteen shillings a week for the first six months…'

Beth had groaned as she heard that, because it meant a pay cut for her. Yet she'd signed the paper put in front of her and felt proud of herself, but now she was feeling uneasy, because her mother and father would not be pleased.

It was nearly dark when Beth reached home. Her parents and her sister Mary were sitting in the kitchen drinking tea, and they all looked at her when she entered.

‘Nice to see you,' Beth said to her sister. ‘Is everything all right at home?'

‘I came to tell Mum that Andy has signed up,' Mary said, looking fed up.

‘Well, you knew he was going to, didn't you?'

‘I kept hoping he would change his mind.'

‘Sorry, Mary love. It must be upsetting for you…'

‘Yes, it is. Tony was here earlier,' Mary told her.

‘What did he want?'

‘He came to see you, of course, Beth.'

‘He hasn't bothered for ages.'

‘He's busy, setting his business up at nights,' Beth's father looked at her oddly. ‘I should have thought you would want to help him with that, Beth. It's a lot of work for a man to do when he's been at work all day.'

‘He didn't tell me he'd gone ahead with it,' Beth said, feeling cross that her family seemed to be on Tony's side. ‘I knew he'd found somewhere but I didn't know he was setting it up.'

‘You didn't tell us you'd had a quarrel with him?'

‘Tony wanted me to work for him and get married at Christmas. I told him we couldn't and, besides, I have plans of my own.'

‘I give him credit for wanting to better himself, Beth. He's got more in him than I thought.' Her father stared hard at her. ‘And what plans have you got, young lady?'

Beth took a deep breath, then, ‘I've applied to become a nurse. They've put me on the list and I was told I've been accepted subjected to my details being checked…'

‘You want to be a nurse like Mary?' Her father stared at her in surprise.

‘Yes, well not quite like Mary. It's a voluntary unit they've set up because of the war. I'll take a shorter course than Mary took and I'll train on the wards; there is no college training…'

‘Why don't you do it the right way if you're going to?' her father asked. ‘Get your State Registration the way Mary did…'

‘Because I want to be of use sooner rather than later,' Beth said. ‘I'm doing this for the duration. I don't want to do it for life…'

‘I thought you wanted to work in an office,' her mother said. ‘Why the sudden change of mind, Beth?'

‘I need to do something worthwhile. Working at Oliver's when young men are being killed isn't my idea of worthwhile…'

‘No one is being killed yet…'

‘Beth is right,' Mary spoke up for her sister. ‘We're going to need all the trained girls we can get, Mum. The hospital is building temporary accommodation; because once it does start the casualties will be so large they will overwhelm us.'

Her father nodded, ‘It's a pity to give up the job you trained for, Beth – but it's the right thing to do. You can always find a typist's job when it's over – but what will Tony have to say if you have to go away?'

‘We're finished,' Beth told them, wanting it out in the open. ‘He's been messing around with another girl and I shan't put up with that.'

‘You didn't tell me,' her mother said, looking upset. ‘So that's why he hasn't been round much – but perhaps he wants to come back, love…'