The Twisted Way (9 page)

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Authors: Jean Hill

BOOK: The Twisted Way
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‘I have considered applying for the post but I am not sure I am able to at present. My husband, you know …’

‘Yes, I understand he has left you and I am sorry.’ He was not, good riddance to the man, indeed his spirits had soared when he heard the brute had left. ‘But ... er ...’ he continued after a short pause, ‘that is all the more reason for applying isn’t it?’

To his chagrin he felt his normally pale slim face colour slightly. He felt hot under the collar, a feeling he was not used to. He got out his handkerchief and mopped a slight sweat off his forehead that threatened to trickle down his face. What on earth was the matter with him? He usually handled his staff well and was naturally aloof which stood him in good stead. He prided himself in not displaying his personal emotions in public.

Janet glanced at him. He was such a nice man but not easy to approach or talk to. He was, however, a good headmaster and she admired him.

‘Well, yes. I will need an increase in salary to help me pay my mortgage. I could sell my home but I’d prefer not to.’

She looked perplexed which provoked a further nervous reaction in John. He was startled. She was the one who should be quaking in her shoes, though he realised that she was not a timid woman. I am in charge here, he told himself, and stretched to his full height, looked down at Janet and made an effort to compose himself. He was suddenly very happy with the idea of working with her. He looked into her large sad eyes and felt an unexpected surge of emotion. He caught his breath and his arms tingled. He longed to hold her and comfort her. What was happening to him? He was a professional man and she was a married woman. Since his wife died John had not considered having a personal relationship with any other woman. A door closed on that side of his life and although many young women tried to flirt with him in the army he had turned away from them with cold disdain. Scathing remarks from his fellow officers like ‘must be a pansy,’ and ‘queer chap,’ had flown around but the memory of his dead wife and baby had stayed with him like a lead weight that until now could not be shifted.

A disconcerted Janet watched the flush on his cheeks and the pink creeping around his neck. She thought he was a virile and handsome man who had kept his feelings in check for a long time; quite the opposite from flippant and fickle James. She looked at him as a man for the first time. He had dark hair which was now receding slightly and a pale lean face which was strong and did not display emotions easily. Wide set grey eyes fringed with stubby lashes looked at her with an interest and thoughtfulness she had not imagined possible. He was over six feet tall and his broad shoulders exuded strength. His imposing presence was an effective asset when controlling unruly pupils and dealing with cantankerous parents, something his staff appreciated.

He felt emotions that he had not felt since Pam had died and knew that he was in danger of falling in love with this woman, and that knowledge frightened him. I really must keep my feelings in check, he told himself. I am behaving like a silly schoolboy.

‘I will apply,’ Janet stuttered, surprising herself. She was mesmerised for a few seconds by his attractive mouth which she found it difficult to take her eyes off, he noticed.

‘Good, I’m glad,’ he answered and treated her to one of his rare smiles which, to her amazement, lit up his normally selfcontained features like a beacon. He turned away from her with unusual abruptness as though dismissing her and she returned to her classroom with her spirits rising and a lightness of step. Perhaps life had something to offer her after all. The challenge of a new post was just what she needed; John was right. Despite her sadness after James’s departure, if she was honest with herself she was relieved that the wretched man had gone away.

That ungrateful oafish James doesn’t want Janet but I’ll appreciate her working here with me, John thought. His loss is my gain. He noticed that Janet had looked happier once she had made the decision to apply for the job and he felt more content than he had for a long time, although knew it would be wise to keep his newfound feelings for her under tight control. After all, they were colleagues.

Chapter 5
The Letter 1952

Janet obtained the post of deputy head and worked well with John Lacey as they had known they would. They developed a 
friendship which they would not have considered possible 
when they first met. Almost a year after James had left John suggested that they might go to a concert in Everton together.

‘We’re both on our own,’ he said in his deep, strong voice, a voice Janet was beginning to find increasingly disturbing. ‘We’re professional people but there’s no reason why we shouldn’t spend some time together as good friends.’

Janet agreed. The memory of James and his unexpected, almost brutal, departure was fading and she was enjoying her job. She liked working with John Lacey and not only in a professional capacity. She must try and be sensible, she told herself. John could only view her as a friend and colleague.

‘I’d like that,’ she replied, her face lighting up in pleasure and anticipation. That was the first of many relaxing evenings they spent together when work was not too pressing and they could spare the time. Some of the other teachers in the school had observed their growing closeness and there was the inevitable staffroom chat. Janet was popular and her friends hoped that she would not be hurt again.

‘He’s a cold fish, that man,’ and ‘I thought he wasn’t interested in women,’ were some of the comments that flew around the staffroom. ‘He’s a bit of a loner, our headmaster. Quite dishy though, and he seems to like Janet,’ some of the women gossiped. One or two thought they would not mind stepping into her shoes.

Janet had overheard and agreed with some of their comments. Feelings crept through her body that she knew would be best ignored. A warm glow spread over her, and into her intimate parts when she thought about his tall masculine form. She longed to feel his strong arms around her, feel his broad shoulders, stroke his hair, and smell his aftershave. This line of thought would not do. She would have to stop daydreaming about him; she was lonely, that was the explanation. Her husband had not long left her and could return at any time. She was just a silly and vulnerable woman but she wondered, painfully aware of her heightened senses, what it would be like to have his fine long fingers stroke her body. If only she had been able to form a relationship with him years ago instead of the diabolical James.

Almost eighteen months after James had walked out of her life a letter with a South African stamp and an airmail sticker fluttered down onto her hall mat. The crinkled white envelope was smudged at the edges with dirt and looked as though someone had kept it in his or her pocket for some time before posting it. The writing in pale purple ink was unfamiliar and erratic. Large loops imposed on some of the consonants. Curiosity prompted Janet to open it but it was difficult to dispel a feeling of dread and her hands shook as she slid the single sheet of writing paper out of the envelope. Although she did not recognise the writing she thought immediately of James. She often wondered where he was and if he would ever return to Enderly. The thought of his return had hung over her like a dark cloud since his departure and whenever she thought about the possibility she experienced a sense of mounting panic which was difficult to overcome. She did not want him back, and the fear that he might soon be back in Enderly took her breath away.

‘It’s so unfair,’ she said out loud. ‘Why now? Oh why?’ I’ve moved on ...’

The marriage had been a horrible mistake and she had been a fool to put up with him for so long. She knew too that what she was now feeling for John Lacey was far from platonic or just empathy for an admired headmaster. She loved him passionately in a way that she had not experienced before. She had been infatuated with James but that was all. She thought too, or more accurately hoped, that John was fond of her and was beginning to look upon her as more than just a friend and colleague. He was a good honest man unlike her wretched husband who was nothing less than a cad and a cheat.

Her heart lurched and she felt sick as she began to read the letter. Salty teardrops trickled down her face and landed like a small pool on the unwanted letter, blurring the strange purple ink.

The signature at the bottom of the letter, Judith, was a name she could not associate with anyone that she knew. Judith wrote that she had been a close companion of James for the past year after they had met in Tunisia and travelled together to Cape Town, where her family lived. James lived with her at her family’s home for a short time before becoming ill and later dying from a fever in a local hospital. He had been cremated, that was his wish, and there was, she stressed, no need for Janet to fly out to South Africa. His ashes had been scattered in her garden. She loved him and was happy to have them near her. He had told her about his failed marriage. She would, she continued, be returning a few of his personal possessions, including a wedding ring that he had worn on a chain around his neck, as soon as she could afford the postage. There was also a letter James had addressed to Janet which she claimed she had already forwarded. Judith did not include an address or contact number.

The letter from James did not arrive, nor did the parcel containing James’s effects. Months passed and Janet was no nearer to solving the mystery. She consulted her solicitor Peter Mace and he promised to help her in any way he could.

She was grateful to her old friend Peter whom she had known since she was a child. He was fond of Janet and considered her to be one of his best friends. Janet knew that Peter was disappointed when she married James but, although she was fond of him, she did not want anything more than friendship. She was relieved when he married Alice a year later, another old friend, a middleclass girl his family approved of. Peter and Alice had a son called Jeremy, a precocious, lively and intelligent boy they hoped would one day join the family firm of solicitors. Janet felt guilty when she thought about Peter. He had told her when they were teenagers that he would always love her but there was no way now she could return his affections. For her that teenage romance was well and truly buried in the past. It had been a disaster. Their family backgrounds were different and Peter’s family made clear at the time that there could be no future for them. She noticed that he too often glanced at her with the kind of interest that he should be reserving for his wife Alice but ignored his overtures with firmness. She was happy to be his friend but that was all.

‘I’ll make some enquiries for you, but don’t be too optimistic,’ Peter told her now. ‘His death may be difficult to prove and we have no idea who this Judith woman is. We have no address or surname to help us.’

Janet hoped that there was no mistake about James’s demise. If James was dead she would be free. Free, that was a word that sounded wonderful when she said it out loud.

‘Free, free ...’ She felt guilty but elated. If only she had not married the man, a sentiment echoed many times in the mind of Peter Mace.

Peter contacted the appropriate authorities in South Africa as he had promised and also the police but no trace could be found of a James Anderson or Judith in Cape Town, though there was a Thomas Mason who had a daughter Judith and he had once owned a small hotel in the area not far from the hospital, but that line of enquiry petered out – a mistake, as was to be proved later. It was as though James had been rubbed out like the writing on her blackboard at the end of a lesson, an analogy she found interesting. She would, however, have to wait a long time before she could file a petition to have him declared dead. Was she a widow? She was embroiled in painful limbo. Janet longed to get on with her life, perhaps get married again, though there was only one man she was interested in, and maybe have the child she had yearned to have for so long.

She wanted to be with John Lacey but knew that unless she could obtain an annulment of her marriage she was not free to pursue this relationship. She dreamt about him and woke up each morning with his name upon her lips. She was lonely and longed to feel his body close to her own. She wondered as the months passed if John felt the same about her and suspected that he did. She had noticed how he looked at her on occasions with a smouldering warmth in those appealing wide grey eyes and with what she thought was definite longing, but convinced herself that she was being foolish and imagining it. They could live in sin – had John considered that possibility? She ached to know. It would be a scandal that would be frowned on by some of the village residents and the school authorities but she started to dream about a future with John. The nineteen fifties were still bound in many ways by old-fashioned Victorian values. They could meet secretly, she fantasized. She longed to have his children who would be beautiful, and knew she wanted to be with this wonderful man for the rest of her life. She became obsessed with the idea. She lost weight and looked wan. Their behaviour in the school and on their frequent outings to local concerts continued as before and the physical closeness of working with him was becoming unbearable. She decided the only answer to the problem was to apply for a job elsewhere, sell Primrose House and move far away from Russetshire.

John had developed deep feelings for her too but was not in a hurry to get married again. When he considered the possibility he would creep back into his inner self, like a snail retreating into a shell, for safety. However, he could not imagine life without Janet and had begun to depend upon her for company as well as support in his job. Feelings of guilt and the knowledge that he was being selfish assailed him. She may want a family, something he no longer wanted; the possibility terrified him, and he would have to make that clear to her if it was proved that James was dead and she was free to marry him. Procrastination was his only option.

‘I am applying for a post in Yorkshire,’ Janet announced one day three years after James had left Enderly, when they were alone in John’s study at the end of a busy day. ‘I have a few friends and relatives there still, though the aunt I stayed with and was particularly close to when I was a girl is now dead.

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