Threads of Silk (24 page)

Mary turned a tear-stained face towards him. ‘She’s gone, love. He hit her and she pushed him. I heard him fall. Then she screamed and ran downstairs. I heard the door slam, then it all went quiet.’ She started to cry and Harry went to comfort her.

‘Don’t worry, Mum, I’ll find her. We won’t lose her again.’

‘Is he…? I was frightened to look.’ Mary clutched at him, hope and fear at war in her eyes.

‘No, he’s not dead – unfortunately. He’s got a nasty cut on his head and I think his arm’s broken – but he’ll live.’ Harry stood up. ‘I wish I’d stayed now. But I thought he wouldn’t be back. And I had some business to attend to.’ Suddenly his news didn’t seem so important any more.

‘Go after Ellie, love. She probably thinks she’s killed him. It all went so quiet, I thought he was dead myself.’

‘I told her I’d drive her back to Essex,’ Harry said. ‘Why didn’t she wait?’

‘I expect she was frightened. She didn’t even say goodbye to me,’ Mary sobbed. ‘Find her, Harry, please.’

‘I don’t like to leave you alone with him,’ Harry said.

‘Don’t worry about me. Just go after her.’

Harry kissed Mary’s cheek and went downstairs. Bert was still propped against the wall, looking dazed. ‘I can’t believe the little cow hit me,’ he said.

‘You probably asked for it,’ Harry’s voice was filled with contempt.

‘Well, she ’asn’t ’eard the last of it. She needn’t think she can come back ’ere throwin’ ’er weight around with her lah-di-dah ways.’ Bert got up, staggering a little.

Outside, he crossed the road towards the Red Lion, clutching his arm to his chest. ‘I suppose you’ll go runnin’ after her. Well, tell ’er from me, she don’t show ’er face again or I’ll ’ave her for assault,’ he shouted over his shoulder.

Harry ignored the threat and made his way to the railway arches where he’d parked the van. Where would she go? She shouldn’t be wandering the streets in her condition. Perhaps she’d gone to the station. The Chelmsford train left from Liverpool Street and he drove there as fast as he could. But the station was crowded with commuters. He left the van, not bothering to find a parking meter, and raced up the stairs leading to the walkway connecting the platforms. From here he had a good view of the departing passengers. But there was no sign of a pregnant woman in a blue, fur-collared coat.

He turned away in despair, not knowing what else to do.

Back at the flat Mary was sitting at the kitchen table in her
dressing-gown
. She looked up expectantly as Harry came in, her face falling as she saw he was alone. ‘You didn’t catch up with her, then?’

‘She’s probably home by now. I’ve got her phone number – we won’t lose her again. Now, tell me what happened.’

‘I knew there’d be trouble if he saw her. He’d been drinking, of course.’ Mary’s face twisted in pain. ‘I was so happy for those few minutes. Then he turned up and everything went wrong.’ She started to cry. ‘Oh, Harry, I can’t believe the things they said to each other….’

He put his arm round her. ‘People say things when they’re angry. It’ll all blow over in time.’ But he was speaking more to comfort her than from any real conviction.

When Mary hesitantly told him what Ellie had revealed about her relationship with her father, it was all he could do to stop himself rushing out of the house and dragging Bert out of the Red Lion. He’d like to beat him to a pulp. He’d seen the fear in Ellie’s eyes when she’d opened the door to him that morning – until she realized who it was. And he’d sensed her apprehension as they neared home. Now he understood why she’d cut herself off from her family.

Mary sobbed as she berated herself. ‘I should have realized. I had my suspicions about what he was doing to Sheila. God forgive me, I blamed her. But his own daughter….’ She bit her knuckles, stifling her sobs.

Harry comforted her, blaming himself for being the cause of stirring up so much grief. But when he tried to say so, Mary insisted it had been worth it, just to see Ellie for those brief few minutes. ‘I can’t thank you enough for making her come,’ she said. ‘How did you know where to find her?’

He told Mary how he’d managed to track her to the lovely old farmhouse and how she’d nearly fainted when she opened the door and saw him standing there.

‘I nearly fainted too – when she walked in the room. I had no idea you were trying to trace her. Why didn’t you tell me?’ Mary asked.

‘I thought of it as soon as I recognized her from that magazine. But it wasn’t easy. And I didn’t want to raise your hopes. Suppose she’d refused to see you?’

Mary nodded, imagining how she’d have felt. ‘If I’d known where she was I’d have jumped on a train straight away – however bad I was feeling,’ she said.

‘Yes – and you were in no fit state to do that, or to have the worry of it. Anyway, I would have gone sooner, but what with Sid being ill – and then having all his business to sort out after the funeral. Today was the first chance I had.’

‘Thank you, Harry. You can’t imagine how much it meant to me, being with her just for that little time. After today’s upset, she might not come again – and I wouldn’t blame her. But at least I can picture her in her nice house with a good husband and her baby. All I ever wanted was to know she was well and happy.’

Harry smiled at her. ‘She might not come here again, Mary. But I’m going to make sure she visits us in our new place – even if I have to drag her by the hair.’

‘You mean, you’ve found somewhere – we won’t have to go in one of those awful council flats?’ Mary had always dreaded being stuck ten floors up in a block miles away from the people she’d known all her life.

Harry took the papers from his jacket pocket and passed them to her, smiling at her shocked expression.

‘You’ve actually bought this place? It’s yours?’ she asked.

‘All signed and sealed. I told you I’d put Sid’s money to good use, didn’t I? And I’ve done his old mate a favour into the bargain.’ Harry leaned forward and took her hand. ‘You will come with us won’t you, Mary? I can’t bear to leave you here with
him
.’

Mary looked confused. ‘You mean – move out of London? Leave Bert?’ For a moment she looked frightened. Her hands shook and she bit her lip. Then she looked up and smiled. ‘Why not? I’ve done my best by him all these years – and after today I don’t think I owe him anything.’

‘We’ll keep it between ourselves for now, shall we?’ Harry said.

‘I don’t relish when the time comes to tell him I’m going,’ Mary confessed.

‘You let me worry about that. Now, sit by the fire and get comfortable and I’ll go and get some fish and chips. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. While I’m out I’ll try phoning Ellie, make sure she got home all right.’

He went straight to the phone box on the corner. But there was no reply. When he’d bought their supper, he tried again. Still no answer. He let it ring for a long time before giving up and going back to the flat, wondering what to tell Mary. He didn’t want her to worry, although he could feel the knot of apprehension growing in his stomach. Even if Ellie hadn’t reached home yet, her husband should have answered the phone. Hadn’t she told him Alex was due back later that afternoon?

Alex turned the car into the lane leading to Withies Farm, whistling under his breath. The last flush of sunset skimmed the tops of the trees bordering the lane and he realized he was later than he’d promised. Ellie would forgive him. She always did. He pictured her in the kitchen, bending awkwardly to get a dish from the oven, and smiled at the imagined domestic scene. Despite the way he had spent the past few days his heart rose as he neared home.

He wasn’t ashamed of his relationship with Barbara. She knew the score and was only too happy to supply what was lacking in his marriage. Any man would do the same, he told himself. But he couldn’t bear the thought of Ellie finding out. She hadn’t told him everything about her past, but from hints dropped by Norah and Trevor, he knew she’d had an unhappy childhood. Something had made her the way she was and he didn’t want to hurt her any more by pressing the matter.

Everything would be all right once she’d had the baby. He was eagerly anticipating fatherhood, picturing himself taking his son to the mill, teaching him everything he knew. Somehow, he was sure it would be a boy. That would make everything right. And if things with Ellie didn’t change, he could still carry on seeing Barbara. It wouldn’t make any difference to his marriage.

He swung the wheel and skidded to a stop on the gravel drive. Without stopping to take his case out of the car, he banged open the side gate and crossed the flagged terrace to the back door.

The kitchen was in darkness and there was no evidence of a meal in preparation. Damn it – she knew he was coming home today. Still in that damned studio, he thought with a little burst of irritation. He peered out of the window across the yard, but the outbuildings were in darkness.

He stood in the middle of the kitchen, his keys still in his hand, a hollow feeling in his stomach. Had she found out about Barbara? Had she left him? Worse – was there someone else?

He went into the hall, looking for a note. He was being irrational. She couldn’t possibly know he’d been unfaithful. She’d probably gone shopping.

Still feeling unreasonably annoyed at her absence, he strode down the hall and threw open the drawing room door. The silver tea tray stood on a small table between two chairs, a film of milk congealing on the cold tea in the bone china cups. An ashtray filled with stubs was beside the tray. Someone had been here.

Alarmed, Alex rushed through the house and ran across the yard, his feet throwing up spurts of gravel. Ellie’s car was still in the garage, the studio empty and silent.

Really worried now, he wondered if she’d gone into early labour. But surely she’d have left a note or someone would have phoned him. Had she found out about his affair and just taken off? Without a word, without waiting to talk it through with him.

Alex’s confused, guilt-ridden mind could think of no other explanation. He walked slowly back to the house and poured himself a large glass of Glenlivet. Carrying glass and bottle, he stumbled into the drawing room and threw himself down on the sofa. Three glasses later a shrill ringing pierced the fog of his despair. It was probably Barbara, he thought.

He couldn’t talk to her now. Ignoring the phone, he took another swig from his glass. The phone was still ringing when he sank into a troubled doze.

Several hours later he clutched his aching head and rolled off the sofa on to the floor. The empty glass rolled with him and came to rest by his left cheek. He forced his eyes open, squinting against the harsh overhead light. The shrill ringing of the telephone made a discordant counterpoint to the hammering in his head. He’d been aware of it earlier but hadn’t managed to get to the phone before the caller hung up.

He definitely shouldn’t have had that last whisky, he thought as he crawled towards the door. His head thumped and his stomach heaved as he remembered coming home to an empty house and the reason for his present sorry state.

He snatched at the phone, praying it was Ellie. Apprehension made his voice rough with anger. ‘Ellie, where the hell have you been?’

‘Is that Mr Alexander Cameron?’ a brisk female voice broke in.

‘Yes. Who is this?’ Alex wished she’d get off the phone. Ellie might be trying to get in touch with him. He glanced at his watch, amazed at how late it was. Surely she should be back by now – if she was coming home, that was. His thoughts skittered here and there as he tried to take in what the other person was saying.

Hospital. The word pierced his consciousness. ‘What hospital, where?’ he demanded. ‘Is my wife all right?’

‘Chelmsford General – Maternity Wing,’ the woman said. ‘We’ve been trying to contact you for hours. The baby….’

‘I’m on my way,’ Alex said, slamming the phone down.

He shouldn’t be driving with the amount of alcohol he’d drunk. But he had to get to her – apologize for his suspicions. No, he amended, he couldn’t admit what his first reaction had been. There
had
been a man at the house today although there was probably an innocent explanation. It was his own guilt that had provoked his angry suspicions.

As he skidded out of the drive and accelerated through the narrow lanes, he vowed he’d give Barbara up. If only Ellie and the baby were all right, he’d make it up to them.

The lights of the hospital loomed towards him and he swung the wheel sharply, skidding to a stop and leaping out of the car.

‘Maternity,’ he gasped and a grinning orderly pointed him in the right direction. He pushed through the swing doors at the end of a glassed-in corridor.

‘Cameron,’ he said to the nurse at the desk. ‘My wife.’

‘Wait here, Mr Cameron,’ she said calmly. ‘The doctor would like to speak to you.’

He ignored the chair she indicated and paced the corridor until a young woman in a white coat approached briskly. ‘Where’s the doctor? Why won’t they let me see my wife?’ he asked.

‘I’m Doctor Bastow,’ she said. ‘Your wife is resting now, Mr Cameron. She’s been through rather an ordeal. I think it best you let her sleep.’ She took Alex’s arm leading him into a small partitioned cubicle, forcing him into a chair. She sat opposite and gazed at him compassionately.

‘What is it? She
is
all right, isn’t she?’

‘Mrs Cameron will be fine. The baby….’ She touched his hand. ‘I’m sorry, your son was still-born. He was a few weeks premature, of course. There was nothing we could do.’

‘I don’t understand. Everything was fine. Ellie was perfectly healthy. What went wrong?’

‘As I said, Mr Cameron, your wife had rather an unpleasant time of it. She had a fall apparently. She should have seen a doctor or gone to a hospital for treatment in London. But somehow, she managed to get on the train—’

Alex stood up, running his hands wildly through his hair. ‘London? What the hell are you talking about? My wife was at home when I phoned this morning. I told her I’d be home later today. She wasn’t planning to leave the house.’ But she had left, hadn’t she, without leaving a note? What was she doing in London?

‘Sit down, Mr Cameron,’ Dr Bastow said, putting her hand firmly on his arm. ‘As you said, she was in good health and the baby wasn’t due for several weeks. There’s no reason why she shouldn’t have gone out for a day’s shopping. But she was hurrying for the train and had a fall. Despite being in pain, her only thought was to get home.’ She smiled sympathetically. ‘I’m so sorry. We did everything we could.’

While Alex paced the confined space the doctor explained that Ellie had gone to London on impulse and, anxious to be back before her husband returned home, was hurrying for the train when she tripped. The pains had started on the journey home and when the train stopped at Chelmsford, someone had telephoned for an ambulance.

‘I kept telling her to be careful – not to overdo things. Why didn’t she listen to me?’ Alex asked, his despair turning to anger. It was his son too.

‘It could just as easily have happened at home, Mr Cameron,’ Doctor Bastow tried to reassure him. ‘But your wife is a healthy young woman. When she recovers there’s no reason why—’

Alex turned on her. ‘That doesn’t alter the fact that my son’s dead,’ he snapped.

Doctor Bastow held his gaze. ‘Yes – but your wife is all right. And she’ll need your help to get through this. I suggest you go home and get some sleep. Come back in the morning.’

‘At least let me see her,’ he asked.

The doctor showed him into the tiny room, hardly more than a cubicle. He crossed the room and looked down at Ellie. Her greenish pallor, the purple shadows beneath her eyes, made her look young and vulnerable, and Alex felt the ice in his heart begin to melt. He hadn’t realized until the doctor had broken the news to him, how much this child had meant to him. But he knew Ellie had been just as eager for parenthood. She wouldn’t have intentionally put her baby at risk.

He touched her hair briefly and left the room, his thoughts in turmoil. Grief mingled with guilt as he realized that, if he’d come home a day earlier instead of staying with Barbara, he’d have been able to stop Ellie going off to London.

As he drove homewards, he remembered the unknown visitor. Whoever it was had either driven Ellie to London or taken her to the station. Later, when she was feeling stronger, he’d tackle her about it. The suspicion that Ellie might have another man in her life fuelled his anger once more. He felt better having someone to blame for the tragedy.

Ellie opened her eyes in the dimly lit room. Where was she? The light came through the open door and she saw that she was in a small cubicle of a room. She turned her head towards the uncurtained window and saw herself reflected in the darkened panes, a small figure on a high, white hospital bed.

Confused, she tried to sit up, wincing as she became aware of her bruised, torn body. She whimpered softly, screwing her eyes shut in pain. What had happened to her? All she could remember was raised voices, her father’s hand tight on her arm, his eyes flashing hatred as he spat words into her face.

She lay back on the pillows and blackness descended once more.

When she woke again, the room was full of sunshine. A nurse was holding her wrist, smiling down at her. ‘Well, Mrs Cameron, you’re looking a lot better, I must say. Here, let me sit you up and tidy your hair. Your husband will be here in a moment.’

She was still confused. But as she let the nurse fuss round her, everything came flooding back – Harry’s unexpected arrival, her mother’s joy, the row with her father. She closed her eyes against the memory of those last few moments in her old home. She wouldn’t think about it, must pretend it had never happened, for Alex’s sake – and her baby’s.

‘The baby,’ she gasped and, as the nurse patted her hand the doctor’s words came rushing back, and she sank back on the pillows, sobbing.

Gradually she became aware that Alex was standing by the window. As she stopped crying and wiped her eyes he turned to her and she flinched away from the bleak expression in his eyes.

‘I’m sorry, Alex,’ she whispered.

‘Sorry – that you killed our son?’ he said. ‘I told you – I begged you – to take care. But you took no notice. How could you put your own pleasure before the welfare of our child?’

Ellie looked at him aghast. Surely he would comfort her, take her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right. He was grieving, true, but surely he must realize that her grief was just as overwhelming. But he kept his distance and continued to look coldly at her.

‘It wasn’t like that at all,’ she said.

‘Oh no, what was it then – a new customer you couldn’t turn away, a brilliant new design? What could be more important than our baby?’ His voice was bitter and he turned to the window again.

Ellie wanted to put her arms round him and reassure him. But what could she say? The habit of silence was now so ingrained that she found it impossible to find the words to tell him what had happened yesterday. How could she explain how her father had ended up in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs? There was no excuse for what she’d done.

She turned her face to the wall and let the tears slide down her cheeks. Guilt gripped her heart. If only she had resisted Harry’s pleas to return to London. Her father would still be alive and she would be at home with Alex, her baby still safely in the womb.