Lizzie's Secret (20 page)

‘Yes, it would be if you pay the rent – but do you want me here? If I left you, you could divorce me and…'

‘No,' he said sharply. ‘I don't want a divorce, Lizzie.' The look in his eyes puzzled her. ‘Look, I'm sorry for the way I behaved. I came back for you three days later but they told me at the hotel you'd gone. I got angry again because you'd left, but I should have come here.'

‘Why did you come back? I don't understand?' Lizzie's heart raced, because he'd given her no clue as to his feelings. He didn't seem angry but he wasn't loving either.

‘After I left you, I went to see your aunt…'

‘Why – didn't you believe me?'

‘Yes, and no – it seemed so strange. I got the whole story out of her, Lizzie. I'm so sorry for what you had to suffer. She's an awful woman – she was so nasty that I knew she'd meant to destroy us…'

‘I think she's punishing me because my uncle was fond of me and left me his property – even though she has the house for her lifetime.'

‘That may not be as long as you'd think,' Harry said. ‘She got herself in such a passion that she had a fit while I was there. The doctor told me she has some sort of tumour in her head and it's slowly killing her.'

‘Oh no, how terrible for her,' Lizzie said. ‘I had no idea…'

‘You're not sorry for her – after what she's done to you?'

‘Of course I'm sorry for her. No one deserves that sort of illness – whatever she did to me…'

‘Well, I think she deserves all she gets,' Harry said. ‘She almost finished us…'

‘Almost?' Lizzie swallowed hard. ‘Are you saying…?' she couldn't go on, because his eyes seemed to be pleading with her.

‘I want to try again – if you'll have me, Liz?' Harry moved towards her, his hand outstretched. ‘I know I was a selfish bastard that night. All I could think of was my disappointment. I couldn't bear to imagine anyone else touching you, loving you – but it wasn't like that at all. You were abused and you didn't even know much about it…'

Lizzie felt the tears on her cheeks. She'd been so hurt, so angry, that she'd almost decided to leave the flat and her job and join up as Beth had, but now Harry's words and his looks were drawing her back, spinning a web about her.

‘But I'm not what you thought I was, Harry,' she whispered and her damaged heart ached. ‘Can you bear it – can you still love me as your wife?'

‘I know one thing,' he said. ‘I know I can't bear my life without you. I thought when I left that I couldn't live with that knowledge but now I know there are worse things. To face a life that didn't include you would be infinitely worse… it doesn't bear thinking of, Lizzie darling.'

‘Oh, Harry…' she moved towards him, needing and wanting to feel his arms about her. ‘I thought you must hate me – that you'd never want me again…'

‘I've thought of nothing else but holding you and loving you,' he said. ‘Please forgive me, Lizzie. Don't leave me – don't hate me because I'm weak and selfish and I didn't know how to behave that night.'

Lizzie felt a shiver of longing and need as their lips met and she knew that even though things could not be the same, she still felt love for this man. She wanted him in her life, because the alternative was an empty wasteland.

‘Take me to bed, Harry. Please make love to me, let me forget all the wicked things she said – tell me that you don't think I'm shameful or disgusting… please love me…'

‘I'll always love you,' Harry said and swept her into his arms, carrying her into their little bedroom and falling with her to the bed.

Afterwards, Lizzie lay beside her husband as he slept. She looked down at him and saw how young he seemed and she felt so much older. The act of making love had seemed enough for him, and he'd come quickly inside her, crying out that he loved her.

Lizzie had found it harder to give herself than the first time. She was scarred, still hurting inside, even though she'd promised all was forgiven. Something within her had held back from him and she hadn't experienced that same flow of pleasure. Harry said that he wanted only to forget, but she knew he would not; he would carry what had happened inside him and so would she.

She lay for a while with tears on her cheeks and then at last she slept until he woke her and made love to her again. She let him kiss her and take her as he would, but some part of her could not respond; it was as if her innocent joy in loving had died.

‘I love you so much, Lizzie,' he'd told her again in the heat of lovemaking. ‘You'll be true to me, darling? You'll never leave me for another man?'

‘I love you,' she'd whispered. ‘I'll never leave you.' But the fact that he'd felt it necessary to ask made the pain twist inside her.

Harry had come back to her because he claimed to love her and need her love, but she knew there was doubt in his mind. Lizzie sensed that Harry still wondered if he could trust her, even though he knew she'd been taken down without her consent. Lizzie's heart wept as she lay beside him, unable to sleep.

Loving Harry, having him back, was a bittersweet thing. She was not sure that such a fragile love would survive the trials of life and she understood why her aunt had warned her not to marry. Only a very special man would bear the knowledge of what had happened to Lizzie and let it make no difference. Despite his promises of love, she knew that the knowledge was like a canker inside Harry.

*

After Harry went back to his unit, Lizzie slipped into the life she'd known before she married him. She worked with Ed in harmony, went home with him to visit his wife, and now she stopped to share the supper she cooked for them once a week. Beth insisted she visit her home often until she was sent away on her nursing course, and Lizzie ate Sunday lunch with Mrs Court and her large family.

It was a busy life, too busy to be lonely, though there was a place inside Lizzie's heart and head that was always alone. She wrote to Harry, cheerful letters about her work and her friends, but he sent her brief postcards about nothing in particular. She knew she'd made a mistake and wished that she had not married so swiftly, but she wouldn't let herself cry over it. Lizzie had made her bed and she must lie in it.

*

‘Go to a garden party in Hampstead on Saturday?' Lizzie said doubtfully. ‘I know I said I might, but that was before Harry…'

‘You promised…' Beth pleaded. ‘It's the chance of a lifetime, Lizzie. He must live in one of those big houses near the Heath. There will be lots of posh people there – fashionable ladies, I expect. We could both wear one of your hats – they might ask who made them and then we could tell them you made them… besides, Harry isn't likely to get another leave yet, is he?'

‘No, I shouldn't think so.' Beth's idea was tempting. If people liked the hats they might make new customers for the workshop. She looked at Beth's face and realised that her friend was excited by the idea of a party in Hampstead.

‘Which of my hats would you choose to wear if I agreed?'

‘Could I wear the green straw? That witch's hat is such fun. I could never wear it anywhere else, but for a garden party – it would be a real lark.'

‘Yes, it does suit you,' Lizzie agreed. ‘Go on then. I'll wear the hat I made for my wedding with my white dress – what dress will you wear?'

‘I've got my black tailored costume.'

‘The hat will look lovely with that… I suppose we could…'

‘Yes, let's,' Beth giggled. ‘I'll take good care of your hat, Lizzie. I won't spoil it, so you can sell it afterwards.'

‘No, Ed warned me that the straw may fray so I shall not be able to sell it, but I want people to see it. When it's been shown to a few people, I'll give it to you.'

‘We'll have a good time on Saturday, because I'm leaving soon and I don't know when I'll see you again…'

Lizzie looked at Beth as they arrived in front of the big house set back in its own grounds. Neither of them had expected anything like this, and she could see from her friend's face that she was wondering if her decision to come had been the right one.

‘Shall we go for a walk and then go home?'

‘Dressed like this?' Beth shook her head. ‘Mr Winters invited us, so we shall go through with it now we've come – besides, you look great, Lizzie.'

‘So do you,' Lizzie said. ‘That outfit makes you look as if you're a model out of a glossy magazine.'

‘I feel different, exciting,' she confessed. ‘Come on, let's go in and see what people make of my hat…'

They rang the front doorbell. It was answered by a pretty young woman wearing a pale blue full-skirted dress and a large white hat. She stared at Beth's hat and giggled.

‘Gosh, I've never seen anything like that,' she said. ‘It's mad but really fun. Come on in. My name is Sandra. Everyone is out the back enjoying themselves. I came in for a moment or I wouldn't have heard you – we all just go round the back…'

Lizzie and Beth followed her through a large sitting room to a pair of open French windows. Outside there were lots of people milling around, mostly pretty girls, but also a few gentlemen. Small tables were set out at intervals and had umbrellas over them to protect people from the sun. There was a large buffet spread under a yellow striped awning and two men wearing white aprons stood behind it to serve the guests with food, of which there was a bewildering variety. Lizzie was impressed by everything she saw, as was Beth. They looked at each other, knowing that they were way out of their depth amongst these people but determined to enjoy themselves nonetheless.

‘Ah, Miss Court and Lizzie Larch…' Sebastian Winters came up to them, smiling. ‘I'm so glad you came. Please, let me get you a drink and help yourself to some food.'

‘Thank you.' Beth beamed at him. ‘I'll have a white wine please – and some of that delicious food. Everything looks wonderful…'

‘I'm glad you like it. You look charming yourself, Miss Court – and I love that wonderful hat. I think you made that, Lizzie?'

‘It's just a bit of fun. I don't imagine anyone would actually buy something like that…'

‘I know of more than one young woman who would buy it just for the fun of wearing something so different – and outrageous.' His eyes seemed warm and caressing on her face. ‘I always knew you had talent. I suspect you made this in your own time – are there any more?'

‘A few… I can't afford to make hats just for fun, even though I'd like to.'

‘Make a few of your madder ideas up for me and I'll pay for them…'

‘I would have to ask Mr Oliver…'

‘Do them in your own time. He doesn't need to know…'

‘I don't think I could do that, but if I tell him you'll buy them…'

‘I shall. I give you my word. Will you make a few flights of fancy for me, Lizzie Larch?'

‘Of course, but you do know I'm Lizzie Oliver now?'

‘To me you'll always be Lizzie Larch – it looks better on a label than Lizzie Oliver, don't you think?'

‘Yes…' she breathed in sharply. ‘But…'

‘Make those hats for me, Lizzie, and we'll talk about the future – yes?' His eyes were challenging her, daring her to accept, and she felt something inside responding.

Lizzie saw that Beth was already being served with a drink and some food at the buffet. ‘Perhaps I should join Beth…'

‘Yes, of course. I must circulate, but I wanted to tell you that I'm pleased you came – and I do love both your hat and Beth's.' Sebastian's hand touched hers for a moment; she felt a tingle shoot through her and pulled it back with a gasp. She was Harry's wife and this wasn't right!

Lizzie thanked him, her cheeks pink as she moved to join Beth and take her choice of the delicious food. Their plates filled with tempting little tarts, miniature sausage rolls, a couple of fancy fingers of something on toast, and various other bits, they found an empty table and sat down.

Lizzie had followed Beth's lead and chosen a medium white wine, which she sipped warily.

They had been sitting alone for a few minutes when a very handsome man in a light-coloured blazer and cream flannels came up to them, hovering before asking if he could sit with them.

‘Yes, if you wish,' Beth said, before Lizzie could answer. ‘This food is awfully good. I don't know what's in these little canapés but they taste delicious.'

‘I think that must be the lobster. Unfortunately, it brings me out in spots, but don't be alarmed, most people love it – I'm just subject to a few allergies.' He offered his hand. ‘My name is Mark Allen, by the way. I'm fascinated by your hat, Miss…'

‘Beth Court. Lizzie made it, she's so clever with hats,' Beth said. ‘I'm just a secretary, I'm afraid.'

‘I think that's awfully clever too,' he replied seriously. ‘I don't do anything much – son and heir to the estate. Father lets me think I'm helping out now and then, but to tell you the truth I feel pretty useless… but that is going to end. Next week I intend to join the Merchant Navy… that's if they'll take me.'

‘Lizzie's husband is in the RAF,' Beth informed him. ‘You haven't got much to eat. I could eat twice as much of these things. I've never tasted anything so delicious.'

‘You must try the cakes and the syllabubs; my sister loves sweet trifles. I tell her she will get fat but she never does…' He looked almost shy, then, ‘Why don't I come with you and tell you what everything is?'

‘Oh yes, thanks,' Beth said and got up with alacrity.

Lizzie watched as her friend went to the buffet with Mark Allen. It was obvious that she was enjoying herself, but Lizzie preferred to sit and watch all the pretty girls. Sebastian Winters had invited more girls than men; they were dressed in gorgeous clothes and their hats were obviously expensive. Lizzie looked at the designs and realised that Harry's uncle was right; one or two of them were wearing unusual designs but most were basic shapes and it was the trimming that made them different.