Love or Duty (15 page)

Alfie’s pale narrow face lit up when he saw Louise pushing the wheelchair towards him. ‘We goin’ aht then?’ he asked.

She bundled him up in his outdoor clothes and tucked a blanket around him. ‘It’s sunny, but the wind’s cold,’ she said. ‘Right, off we go.’

She pushed the chair along the promenade, enjoying the wind in her hair and the taste of salt on her lips. Two Royal Navy destroyers were a grey smudge on the horizon but even that reminder of the war couldn’t dampen her spirits on such a beautiful spring day.

She started to sing. ‘Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside,’ and Alfie joined in. When they got to the words, ‘the brass band plays …’ Alfie stopped. ‘But there ain’t no brass band is there, Miss?’

‘There will be, one day. When the war’s over, they’ll put the flags out and there’ll be bands playing and everything.’

Alfie was silent and Louise stooped down to look into Alfie’s pinched face. His eyes were bright with unshed tears. ‘Will it really be over one day,’ he asked. ‘Will my dad come back?’

‘I’m sure he will. And you’ll go back home and be with your family again.’

Alfie sniffed. ‘I want to be with my family, but I don’t wanna go back to London. I like it ’ere – beside the seaside.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘P’raps me dad can get a job ’ere, when he gets out of the army.’

‘That would be nice,’ Louise said, smiling. She continued along the
promenade
daydreaming as she often did of a future in which she saw herself as a married woman, and it wasn’t a wheelchair she was pushing but a pram with her own child in it. She knew it was the life she wanted. She wasn’t like Sarah with her longing for fame and fortune. Not that it was likely to happen unless she gave in to James and accepted his proposal. He loved her, he’d said so many times and couldn’t understand her reluctance to commit herself. How could she tell him that in her daydreams it wasn’t his face that filled her thoughts but that of Andrew Tate?

She shook her head at her foolish thoughts. Andrew was out of reach. But she would never marry James. Better to be a spinster than to marry for the wrong reasons.

Alfie’s reedy voice interrupted her thoughts. ‘’Ere, is that a real gun, Mister?’

Louise came back to the present, smiling as the man bent down to answer the little boy and show him the rifle.

As he started to explain how it worked, Alfie’s face grew animated and he turned to Louise. ‘When I’m better, I’m gonna join the LDV. I’m gonna have a gun too.’

‘’Course you will, son,’ the man said, smiling sympathetically over the boy’s shoulder at Louise as she tucked the blanket round him.

‘Better get back,’ she said. ‘Matron will kill me if we’re late for lunch.’ She thanked the man for his kindness and walked away, swallowing a lump in her throat. Despite his brave words, she thought Alfie would probably never be strong enough to fulfil his ambition.

As they neared the hospital, she caught a glimpse of James turning a corner. She was glad that he hadn’t seen her. He’d recently expressed concern that she was getting too fond of the children in her care, especially young Alfie.

‘I’m only thinking of you,’ he’d said. ‘They’ll all have to go home eventually. I just don’t want you being upset.’

Louise sighed. He was right. Already, it was hard to imagine her life without Alfie and the other children. Matron had said something similar only the other day. But she loved volunteering at the hospital and, besides, what other war work could she do, tied as she was to her stepmother? She couldn’t join the forces or go to work on the land as so many of her old school friends had done. Even Peggy, who’d married her naval lieutenant, had joined the WRNS and was now stationed in Portsmouth.

W
hen she had finished her shift at the hospital, Louise reluctantly returned to Steyne House, steeling herself for the usual barrage of complaints she knew would await her. As the querulous voice floated down the stairs, she wondered whether James was right in thinking that she indulged Dora’s whims too much. ‘If you weren’t there, she’d have to get her own meals ready,’ he’d said.

But Louise couldn’t bring herself to abandon her stepmother. She’d promised her father that she would look after her and she meant to keep that promise.

Ignoring Dora for the moment, she went into the kitchen and tried to decide what to cook to tempt her stepmother’s appetite. She’d left some sandwiches for her before she went out, but she would want a proper meal later on.

Louise wasn’t hungry herself, having already joined the children for a substantial meal of steak and kidney pie before settling them for their
afternoon
nap. She counted herself lucky that since meat had been rationed earlier in the month she was able to take some of her meals at the hospital.

Feeding Dora, who was so fussy, had become a nightmare. She seemed incapable of understanding that the foods she loved were simply not
available
. Since her marriage to Stanley she’d never wanted for anything and had become used to having her demands met.

Louise had become tired of explaining and often now she would just take the tray in and put it in front of Dora without a word, leaving the room with the excuse that she had heard the telephone ringing or had left
something
on the stove.

This time she didn’t need an excuse. As she opened the larder door and inspected the contents, there was a ring at the door. She opened it, expecting to see Mrs Howard or the vicar, who often called to see how Dora was.

She was startled to be confronted by James. ‘Why aren’t you at the office?’ she asked.

‘I had to call on a client near here,’ he said with a smile. ‘Besides, do I need an excuse to call on my best girl?’

When she hesitated, he smiled and said, ‘If you’re busy I’ll come back later.’

‘No – it’s all right, I’ve just got back from the hospital. Come in, James. I was just about to go up to Mother, but she can wait.’

‘Ah, taking my advice then?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Not running up and downstairs after her.’

‘That’s not very nice. You know she’s not well.’ But despite her protests, she knew James was right. Hadn’t Dr Tate often told her that her mother wasn’t really ill? But she couldn’t take the risk. She already felt guilty enough for not taking sufficient notice of her father’s ill health.

James didn’t reply and she showed him into the drawing room. There was no fire in the grate and it was chilly despite the spring sunshine filtering through the net curtains. ‘Do sit down,’ she said. ‘I’ll bring some tea in a moment.’

‘Can’t Polly do it?’

‘She’s left us – gone to work at Vickers. Didn’t I tell you?’

‘I remember now. Can’t you get someone else? You can’t manage alone, surely.’ He paced the room, rubbing his hands together.

‘There’s a war on, James – or had you forgotten? All the young women are off in the forces or the factories. Besides, I’m managing very well, thank you.’

He took her hand, running his fingers over the rough skin. ‘I’m sure you’re very capable. But I worry about you. I don’t like to see you ruining your hands with housework and looking so tired all the time.’

‘It’s nice of you to be concerned, but I’m all right.’

‘Of course I’m concerned. I want to take care of you – if only you’d let me.’ He pulled her towards him and kissed her – a soft gentle kiss.

She leaned in to him and laid her head against his chest. Just for a moment she felt it would be nice to be taken care of, to have someone help her shoulder the burdens of running the house and looking after her
stepmother
. But was James really the one to do it? She resolutely thrust the thought of Andrew away and smiled up at him.

‘Do you really mean it, James?’ she asked.

‘You know I do. Marry me and your troubles will be over.’ He grinned down at her, that cheeky, little boy grin which had always disarmed her.

‘I’ll think about it,’ she said.

He laughed aloud and picked her up, swinging her round and almost knocking over a small table.

‘Put me down, James,’ she squealed, and laughed too, her face flushed.

A loud banging from upstairs silenced them. ‘Mother,’ Louise gasped. ‘I’d better go up and see what she wants.’

James’s lips tightened but he let her go without saying anything.

Outside Dora’s bedroom door, Louise paused for a moment, smoothing her hair and taking a deep breath.

‘What’s all that noise?’ her stepmother asked. ‘I thought the bombing had started.’

‘It’s all right, Mother. I just bumped into the table.’

‘I heard voices. Is James here? Why don’t you bring him up?’

‘He only popped in for a minute.’ Louse felt herself blushing. ‘Let me tidy you first and then I’ll send him up. Do you want something to eat?’

‘Is there any cake?’

‘I’ll see.’ Louise helped her stepmother to sit up and propped the pillows behind her. She tidied her hair and handed her the small mirror.

Dora regarded herself critically. ‘Some lipstick I think. Must look my best when a young man comes visiting.’ She gave a girlish giggle. ‘Not that he’s here to visit an old woman. We know what he’s here for.’

Louise’s blush deepened and Dora smiled knowingly. ‘Fetch him up then,’ she said.

James was not in the drawing room when she went downstairs and she wondered if he’d got impatient and left. Part of her wished he had. She was already regretting her impulsive reply to his mention of marriage. Would he infer that ‘thinking about it’ meant she was taking him seriously? She should have said an emphatic ‘no’ and she would do just that next time she saw him.

She crossed the hall to the kitchen, jumping back in alarm as the door to the cellar opened and James appeared carrying a bucket of coal. ‘I thought I’d light the fire for you. It’s still very cold for the time of year,’ he said.

‘That’s kind of you. But we don’t have a fire in there unless we have company.’

‘What am I then?’ His sharp voice belied the grin.

‘You know what I mean. It may not be rationed like so many things but it is in short supply. We have to ration ourselves. I need to keep the range going in the kitchen as well as the fire in Mother’s room. She doesn’t come down these days. I spend most of my time in the kitchen anyway.’

James put the coal scuttle down and put his arms round her. ‘My poor darling. I didn’t realize things were so difficult for you.’ He looked into her eyes. ‘Never mind, that will all change once we’re married.’

Louise’s stomach lurched but she managed a smile. So he’d been serious then. She must speak up before it was too late. ‘James….’ She struggled to find the right words, but before she could speak, her stepmother’s voice floated downstairs.

‘James, where are you?’

Louise sighed and said, ‘You’d better go up. She loves having visitors.’ She gave him a gentle push. ‘Go on. I’ll make some tea.’

‘I’d rather stay down here with you – even if we do have to drink tea in the kitchen,’ he said.

‘Mother will get upset if you don’t go and say hello,’ she said.

He turned away reluctantly and mounted the stairs.

Louise leaned against the kitchen counter as she waited for the kettle to boil, wishing she’d spoken up. As she laid the tray and took the cake out of the tin, she wondered what it would be like to be married to James. She pictured a neat villa – not too big – on the outskirts of Holton. Far easier to manage than this warren of a house with its high ceilings and cold, unused rooms. They couldn’t sell it of course. It had been left to Dora for her lifetime.

Surely they could afford one of those nice houses out on the Chichester road though. Business might be slow but James still had the money from the sale of his parents’ house. After his father’s death he’d moved into a small bachelor flat. Well, they certainly couldn’t live there. Perhaps they ought to wait till the war ended. Business would pick up then and they’d be able to afford a nurse or companion for Dora.

The relief at the thought of handing over the responsibility to someone else, of not having to listen to that shrill voice every day, made Louise think more warmly of James than she had up till now. It might not be the life she had dreamed of but it could be a good life, she thought. Perhaps she would accept him after all.

The whistle of the kettle brought an end to her daydreams and she filled the teapot and picked up the tray. As she carried the heavy load upstairs she heard laughter from her stepmother’s room and the deep rumble of James’s voice. She stopped abruptly, her foot on the top step. What had she been thinking of? She couldn’t marry James. She was fond of him, but she didn’t love him. How could she marry one man when another still held a place in her heart?

If she couldn’t have Andrew she would never marry. She would stay in this gloomy old house and look after her stepmother as she’d promised her father she would. And she would fill her empty life with caring for those poor neglected children in the hospital up the road.

She put the tray down on a small table on the landing and opened the bedroom door.

James was sitting on the bed holding Dora’s hand and smiling. He jumped up as Louise came in and took the tray from her, setting it down beside the bed. Before she could pour the tea, Dora spoke.

‘James tells me congratulations are in order, my dear. I’m so pleased for you both. Your father would have been so happy.’

‘Charlton and Spencer – a real family firm,’ James said, taking Louise’s hand.

Louise went cold and pulled her hand away. ‘But, Mother….’ How could he?

Dora flapped her hand. ‘I know, I know. You wanted to tell me yourself. But James is so happy, he couldn’t wait to break the news.’

It was so rare to see Dora animated and flushed with pleasure that Louise couldn’t bear to spoil her mood. She would speak to her later – after she had told James her decision. She didn’t think Dora would be quite so happy once she realized that Louise would be moving out of Steyne House and leaving her with a paid companion to pander to her whims.

James had long gone and Dora was asleep having taken a pill to calm her palpitations after all the excitement. But Louise could not sleep.

Despite several tentative efforts on her part, she hadn’t been able to voice her doubts. Dora had been so excited at the thought of a wedding she’d quite forgotten her aches and pains and had begun to make plans at once. James had joined in with enthusiasm and Louise had sat by, unable to say a word.

The final straw was Dora’s triumphant announcement. ‘And you won’t have to worry about finding somewhere to live,’ she said.

‘But James’s flat—’

‘Don’t be silly. You can’t live there. James will move in here, of course.’ Dora waved a hand round the room. ‘We’ll have to make some changes but you can have this room and James can have your father’s old room as a dressing room. I’ll move into the large guest room. We never have guests so….’

James had taken her hand, smiling into her eyes. ‘Don’t you think that’s the perfect solution, darling?’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t dream of taking you away from your home and family.’

Perfect for him, maybe. Perfect for Dora, Louise thought, as she turned over in bed and gazed at the ceiling. They had both looked so pleased with themselves, almost as if they’d planned it all between them while she was still downstairs.

But what about me? What about what I want? The headache that had been building all evening tightened its steel band round her forehead and she closed her eyes as a slow tear slid down her cheek. She thought of Sarah, wishing she were here to talk it over with. There was no one else; her old school friends were either married with their own families or had left to join the forces.

She’d write to her sister tomorrow, she thought. It would help if she put her thoughts down on paper. Whether she would send the letter was another matter. She knew what Sarah would say – that she was lucky to be getting a chance at marriage instead of being doomed to spinsterhood; as if marriage was the only option for women these days. Look at Sarah with her glamorous life in Hollywood. Louise had never really been jealous of her sister, but as she drifted off to sleep, she wished she’d taken the opportunity to go with her and start a new life.

When Louise woke the next morning she still had a splitting headache. Her throat was dry and all her limbs ached. She tried to sit up, telling herself it was the result of her sleepless night. The sun streaming through the partly opened curtains hurt her eyes and she fell back on the pillow with a groan.

She made another attempt to rise but as she swung her legs out of bed a bout of nausea overcame her and she just made it to the bathroom in time. As she staggered back to her own room, she heard Dora calling. Ignoring her, she flopped onto the bed and closed her eyes.

It seemed only a moment before she was forced to open them, to see Dora standing over her, face white with fury.

‘Didn’t you hear me calling?’ she demanded.

Louise answered with a groan and closed her eyes against the glare from the window.

‘Are you ill?’ Dora’s voice changed as she put a hand on Louise’s
forehead
, only to snatch it away immediately. ‘You’re burning up. I’ll have to call the doctor.’

Louise winced as Dora’s shrill voice demanded that Dr Tate come at once. She kept her eyes closed as her stepmother came back into the room, trying to shut out the noise of her bustling around, tidying up and muttering as she did so. ‘I knew no good would come of it – working in that hospital. Who knows what nasty germs and diseases those children brought with them.’

Louise felt the bile rising in her throat and frantically tried to get up. Dora was there with the china bowl from the washstand and Louise tried to smile her gratitude. Dora shook her head, an expression of distaste on her face. ‘If you’re going to be ill, we’ll have to get a nurse in,’ she said. ‘I can’t cope with this in my delicate state of health.’