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Authors: Rosie Harris

BOOK: Whispers of Love
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‘Couldn't you do it, Lewis? You are here on the spot and I'm sure Violet will help you. There's nothing at all that I want so you can sort out anything you would like to keep and then sell the rest or do whatever you want with it.'

Before she left Liverpool, Christabel disposed of anything of sentimental value. Dry eyed, she burned all letters and greetings cards she'd received over the years. As she watched them blacken and curl, before collapsing into a pile of grey ash, she felt a sense of freedom; it was as if she had finally released herself from the past.

 

As owner of one of the leading polo clubs in Buenos Aires, Freddy Newland held a unique place in the hierarchy of the local society. Whenever Jessica felt well enough they wined and dined with all the most important business people, as well as government officials and leading socialites, and on these occasions Christabel found she was being included.

In addition, she and Jessica were fêted by the many ‘ladies only' clubs and societies. Jessica, who had met most of the ladies behind these organisations when she had been in Buenos Aires previously, played the field. She accepted invitations only if she considered a visit to be worthwhile. Otherwise she would decline, winning her hostess's commiserations when she explained she was not feeling strong enough to socialise.

If anyone noticed that her health rarely presented any problems for the more important social events of the season, or whenever there was a polo match in which her husband's team were participating, good manners prevented them from mentioning it.

For Christabel, the entire scenario was new and exciting. She had completely shaken off her lethargy and, like a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis, happily played her part as Jessica's attentive companion both at the many social gatherings and as a spectator at the polo field.

Her lack of knowledge of the sport was no handicap whatsoever. In fact, in some ways, she found it was an excellent opening gambit. There were always plenty of knowledgeable men on hand to instruct her on the intricacies of the game.

Within a few months of arriving in Argentina, Christabel had a working knowledge of such terms as ‘chukkas' and ‘divots', and could comment intelligently on the skill of each of the four players in Freddy's team, or even of those in the opposing team.

Christabel found that although it could be a wonderful existence at the Newlands' palatial home in the exclusive residential area on the outskirts of Buenos Aires, it very much depended on Jessica's mood as to how much she could participate in what was going on. Jessica preferred to reserve her energy for the social gatherings that followed rather than expend it watching
polo, and she made it clear that Christabel was there to look after her and not simply to enjoy herself.

 

‘Freddy said the other day that when we left England you looked like a middle-aged frump. More my nurse, than my companion,' Jessica commented a trifle maliciously one day as Christabel helped her dress to attend an evening function. ‘Now look at the difference! You are so full of energy that I feel tired out just watching you!'

Christabel smiled. She did sometimes feel as if she'd taken on a new lease of life – at least until she was in the middle of an interesting conversation with Freddy or someone and Jessica demanded attention. This immediately brought her down to earth and made her realise that she was there in the capacity of a companion, which was only a glorified servant and not really as one of their friends.

‘How long did you say you'd been back with your mother?' Jessica frowned.

‘Too long! I lost track of time. It's hard to believe it now, but after Lilian went off with Alex, I almost felt as if my life were over,' Christabel admitted.

‘I can understand that. If I lost Freddy, I'd feel there was nothing left worth living for and I'm sure it would be the same for him even though I must be something of a burden to him in my state of health.'

Christabel recalled their conversation a couple of weeks later when Jessica was rushed to hospital for an emergency operation. Freddy was distraught and sought solace in drink.

Night after night he sat nursing a bottle of whisky, refilling his glass over and over again. For Jessica's sake, Christabel tried to restrain him but he took no notice. Finally, in desperation, she took all the bottles of whisky from the drinks cabinet and hid them in her bedroom in the hope that it would give him time to sober up before Jessica came home.

It was the last place she thought Freddy would think of looking for them but she was wrong. Sometime after she was in bed that night he came bursting into her room accusing her of stealing his whisky. He was already drunk and she assumed he must have been drinking the brandy which she hadn't bothered to hide, knowing that his preference was for whisky.

She lay very still hoping he would think she was asleep and would go away, but he was not to be deterred. Grabbing hold of the bedclothes he pulled them off her and threw them to the ground. Then he grabbed hold of her. He was strong and well muscled and although she fought like a wild cat she was no match for him.

He completely ignored her plea to let her go, and her offer to return his whisky if he would leave her alone.

‘I intend to have my whisky and you as well,' he told her contemptuously. ‘Who the hell do you think you are, Christabel, trying to dictate what I can and cannot do in my own home?'

Bruised and sore, Christabel stayed in her room the whole of the next day, asking the maid to bring her meals up to her as she felt unwell. She felt horrified by what had happened and didn't want to have to face Freddy again on her own. That night she pulled a chest across the room to barricade her door in case he tried to get in again.

Two days later, Jessica came home from hospital. She insisted on coming down to dinner that night even though Christabel thought she ought to rest and have her meal brought up to her.

She looked very pale and barely ate anything. She waited until the end of their meal before levelling her accusations. Her anger, heightened by her sense of inadequacy because of her illness, was frightening in its intensity.

Her onslaught took Freddy and Christabel by surprise. ‘You're imagining things, or else you've been listening to gossip from the domestics, Jessica,' Freddy blustered.

‘So Manuel is a liar when he says he saw you coming out of Christabel's room well after midnight?'

‘Servants gossip. They put the wrong interpretation on things . . .'

‘So you have never been into her bedroom?' Jessica pressed a hand to her chest as if in pain. ‘I want the truth, Freddy.' Her face was ashen, her vivid red lipstick made her mouth look like a scarlet gash, and her eyes were darts of sharp light as she turned to look at Christabel.

‘Come, darling,' Freddy placed a protective arm round her shoulders, ‘you are over-wrought. This illness has taken a lot out of you.'

Jessica pushed him away. ‘Don't you dare touch me! I don't want you near me until I get to the bottom of this. What have you to say, Christabel? Was Manuel telling the truth? Did he see Freddy coming out of your room?'

Christabel bit her lip. At first, she had decided to say nothing, but now she felt the need to defend herself. ‘Probably,' she admitted. ‘I had hidden his whisky because he was drinking far too much and he came in to get it and . . . and he raped me.'

‘Raped you!' The scorn in Jessica's voice brought the colour rushing to Christabel's cheeks. ‘You mean you enticed him in there! The two of you have been having an affair behind my back.'

‘Look, my darling,' Freddy intervened quickly, raising his hands suppliantly, ‘you know that is utter nonsense because you are the only woman I have ever truly loved,' he told her glibly,
avoiding Christabel's eyes. ‘You know I would never dream of doing anything like that, knowing how much it would hurt you.'

‘Only because you know that if you did, I would throw you out and you'd be penniless,' Jessica retorted scathingly. ‘Have you told Christabel that? Does she know it's my money that provides the lavish lifestyle you enjoy?'

‘Why should I tell Christabel about our private affairs? There is nothing between us. She means nothing to me. I've only treated her as one of the family because you regard her as a close personal friend.'

‘That was in the past. From now on, she's no friend of mine!' Her anger still blazing and her features distorted, she turned on Christabel. ‘You betrayed my trust,' she fumed, ‘that is something I can never forgive. You know how I feel about Freddy and yet, behind my back, you became his lover.'

Christabel waited for Freddy to admit what had happened, but he remained mute and avoided her eyes. Christabel felt her insides tighten and she fought back the sour taste in her mouth.

‘I'm sure he was quite ready to take what was on offer,' Jessica sneered. ‘He always has had a penchant for servants. A bit of rough, if you know what I mean,' she added coarsely.

Christabel bit her lip, her face flaming with anger and embarrassment. Jessica might be
justified in her onslaught on Freddy, but she refused to take the blame for his actions.

Stung, she appealed to him to put the record straight. ‘Tell her, Freddy! Tell Jessica the truth about what happened.'

‘For Christ's sake, Christabel, stop making a mountain out of a molehill. I was worried out of my mind over Jessica, and I turned to you for a word of comfort and reassurance. You took advantage of that and, momentarily, I strayed. It's something I bitterly regret, so let's leave it at that.'

She stared at him in disbelief, unable to credit what she was hearing. ‘Not a word of that is true,' she gasped.

‘Please!' Jessica pressed a hand to her forehead. ‘I've had all I can take. Pack your things and go.'

‘Go! What do you mean?'

‘I should have thought that was plain enough. You are dismissed. I don't want you under our roof another minute!'

‘You can't just turn me out,' Christabel said indignantly, ‘I have nowhere I can go.'

‘That's your problem, Christabel; it's something you should have thought about before you started carrying on with my husband.'

‘Freddy, tell your wife that I am telling the truth; admit that you broke into my room and raped me. I'm being treated no better than a servant caught stealing,' Christabel said desperately.

He shook his head. ‘You know quite well that what happened was your entire fault, Christabel,' he said smugly. ‘Jessica controls the purse strings, so there is nothing I can do to change things.'

Chapter Seventeen

The moment her trunk was packed, Christabel called a cab, and moved into a hotel in the centre of Buenos Aires. She felt humiliated and angry about what had happened.

She took a long bath, changed her clothes and then ventured down to the hotel restaurant where she ordered a light meal and a glass of wine. As she sipped her wine she tried to sum up the situation and decide what she was going to do next, because she was apprehensive about her future.

Although she'd saved every penny of her wages since she'd been with the Newlands, she knew quite well that it wouldn't last all that long once she had to start living on it. It was important that she reserved enough for her fare back to Liverpool and that would account for a sizeable chunk of it.

Did she want to go back to Liverpool, she mused? While she was on the same side of the Atlantic as Lilian she wondered if she should pay her a visit. Lewis had written to say that Lilian had miscarried the baby she'd been expecting and, remembering how despondent she'd felt after losing her own baby, even
though that had been her decision, she thought Lilian might welcome a familiar face, someone from her own family.

It would mean meeting up with Alex again, of course. Still, that was all in the past. It was hard to believe how besotted she'd been about him. After her recent ordeal at the hands of Freddy she had no interest in him – or in any other man, for that matter.

The distance from Buenos Aires to Hollywood was far greater than she'd anticipated, and by the time she'd arrived and found where the Taylors lived, she was almost penniless.

Alex answered the door and for a moment he stared as if seeing a ghost.

‘Christabel?' His voice was a mixture of surprise, disbelief and apprehension as his eyes travelled from her face down to the suitcases piled up at her feet.

‘You've taken us by surprise, but you'd better come in. I take it you have come to stay,' he added dryly as he helped carry her luggage into the hallway.

Hearing their voices, Lilian called out, ‘Who is it, Alex? We're not expecting anyone.'

‘It's me, Lilian,' Christabel answered before he could do so. ‘I thought it was time I paid you a visit.'

‘Christabel! It can't be! Why on earth didn't you let us know you were coming?' Lilian gasped as she came rushing out into the hall.

‘It's so wonderful to see you,' she enthused as
they kissed and hugged each other. ‘I've been feeling really homesick recently since . . . since . . .' She struggled for words but couldn't go on.

‘Lewis wrote and told me about the baby and I am so sorry,' Christabel said softly.

Lilian swallowed hard and then regained her composure. She grabbed hold of Christabel's hands, holding them tightly as she held her at arm's length and stared at her in disbelief. ‘My God, Chrissy, I do believe you're even thinner than when I last saw you!' she exclaimed.

Christabel shrugged nonchalantly. She had to agree that, compared to Lilian, she certainly was slim. Both Lilian and Alex looked overfed and dissipated. Since she'd last seen him he'd grown a moustache which bristled above his top lip like a baby hedgehog.

‘Marlene, come and greet your Aunt Christabel. I don't suppose you remember each other after all this time,' Lilian added. ‘Come along, poppet,' she urged, pulling forward a plump little seven-year-old with light auburn hair curled into the same face-framing style as her own. ‘Say hello to your Aunt Christabel.'

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