‘Miss my cooking? Why, for goodness sake? Oh, you mean rationing, of course. Well, Ashley, I dare say we’ll be better off than some. The Throwers keep poultry and they sold us six good hens, and we’ve got a large and thriving vegetable garden and the orchard . . .’ She broke off, staring from face to face. ‘You did mean rationing, didn’t you?’
Ashley, for once, seemed unwilling or unable to talk his way out of it. He gaped at Marianne, then cleared his throat and glanced appealingly at Tess.
‘No, he didn’t mean rationing, Marianne,’ Tess said. ‘He meant that I had applied to join the WAAF. But I’ve written to them, explaining that I don’t feel I should leave home at this particular juncture and withdrawing my application for the time being. So things will go on as usual for a while, at least.’
‘Yes, but . . . you won’t go away at all now, will you? Not now, not with your father . . . gone. How could we possibly manage, Cherie and I? We neither of us drive, I rely on you completely, you know that. Peter wouldn’t expect you to desert me, Tess.’
‘No, and I won’t leave yet. But eventually I may have no choice,’ Tess said with a coolness she was far from feeling. The words
you selfish person!
hovered on the tip of her tongue but must never be spoken. ‘I did apply, you see.’
‘Oh, but if you tell them . . .’
‘Marianne, I’ve told them, but joining one of the services would be war work! You cannot imagine, for one minute, that working up at the museum and looking after you and Cherie could be classified as such? As it is, if the museum tell the government that my work’s not essential – and it isn’t – I’ll probably have to go into a factory, which I don’t much fancy.’
‘You wouldn’t have to work in a factory, you could go on the land, and that would mean you could live at home,’ Marianne argued, and Tess sighed. Her stepmother really was incredible – this was the woman who hadn’t been able to wait to get rid of her before the war, four or five months ago. And now, because things had changed, Marianne was suddenly finding her resented stepchild indispensible!
‘Let’s not discuss it,’ Tess said tactfully, however. ‘Remember, it may never happen. The war may be over before they call me up.’ She leaned across the table and helped herself to another slice of pie. ‘This is really good, especially with those delicious pickled onions.’
‘I’d better have some too, or you won’t let me kiss you good-night,’ Ashley said, reaching for the pickle dish. Tess stiffened, but she knew, really, that he was only trying to change the subject. And presently, when the meal was eaten and the washing up done, Marianne took Cherie off to bed and Tess put on her coat and her wellingtons and went out into the chilly dark to see Ashley off.
‘Your stepmama is quite a lady,’ Ashley said as they stood beside his small sports model. ‘She doesn’t care, does she?’
‘Care?’
‘What people think, I meant. Most people cover their selfishness with a thick layer of some sort. She just comes out and says
I want, therefore I must have
.’
Tess laughed. ‘Oh yes, I know what you mean. Daddy once said it was one of the things he really loved about Marianne – that she was never ashamed to show her faults and weaknesses to the whole world. Indeed, immediately after his death she showed her grief in a totally uninhibited way which I found . . . distasteful, I suppose. But later I believe I began to envy her. I couldn’t gnash my teeth and rend my garments as she did because I’m far too cold and inhibited and British, so all the pain and the missing got scrunched up inside me, to fester in the dark.’
‘But you’re all right now,’ Ashley said. ‘I can see it in your face. You’ve got your lovely, peaceful look back.’
‘
Peaceful
? What on earth does that mean? I suppose you mean blank and unintelligent,’ Tess said indignantly. ‘And yes, I am okay now, because Mrs Thrower had a talk to me. And in case I haven’t already said it, thanks, Ash.’
‘Thanks for what? Friends don’t need to be thanked, old girl.’
‘Well, thanks for coming this afternoon, for a start. I did appreciate it, honestly. It made things easier for me.’
‘Good,’ Ashley said briskly. ‘Look, I understand how you feel about leaving here now, after what’s happened, but you’d love the WAAF, kiddo! Freddy’s in her element and I don’t see why you should miss out. As for working on the land, no doubt Mr Rope would be glad of your help but it’s a waste of your brains, girl. You could have gone to university – should have – but you settled for your Higher and the job at the museum because you didn’t have the self-confidence to leave home. Don’t shoot yourself in the foot twice, Tess!’
‘What a lecture,’ Tess said lightly. ‘But it’s no use nagging, Ash. I can’t leave Marianne just now. Later, perhaps.’
‘Oh, later!’ Ashley looked all round him in the gloom of late afternoon, then seized her firmly in his arms. ‘Darling Tess, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone . . . kissy kissy!’
‘More than you love yourself?’ Tess asked nastily. Ashley groaned, cast his eyes up, and then slowly lowered his mouth on to hers. The kiss went on longer than usual because Tess was ashamed of her sharpness, but she broke it first, because she felt sure that Marianne and Cherie were probably either watching avidly through the gap in the curtains or timing her on the kitchen clock.
‘There! Wasn’t that the loveliest, most delicious thing?’ Ashley demanded as soon as he’d got his breath back. ‘Lucky, lucky Tess Delamere, to have the finest pilot officer in the Royal Air Force at her feet!’
‘I knew you’d go back to normal soon,’ Tess said resignedly, stepping back. ‘Go on, start the car and whizz off, you conceited beast!’
But she spoke indulgently. He had been kind today, kinder than she perhaps deserved when you thought how often and how thoroughly she had kept him at arm’s length.
‘Okay, okay, keep your hair on,’ Ashley said. ‘I’ll be over early tomorrow morning, to whisk you off somewhere nice. I’m on a forty-eight, I’ll have you know.’
‘Tomorrow? I’m busy tomorrow,’ Tess said at once, feeling the guilty warmth rise to her cheeks. ‘Come the following day.’
‘No can do. I’ll be back in Lincoln by then. See you in the morning, honey-sweet, and don’t you go out before I arrive or I’ll do something desperate.’
‘I’m busy I said,’ Tess shouted as Ashley began to swing the starting handle. The engine roared into life and he ran round and jumped in behind the wheel. ‘I’m
busy
!’ Tess shrieked, but Ashley pretended not to hear. He cupped a hand round his ear, then shouted, ‘Cheery-bye, sweetie-pie,’ and roared off into the night, hooting
parp parp de parp parp
on his horn as he rounded the bend.
Back in the warm living-room, Marianne was sitting by the fire, gazing into the flames. She jumped as Tess entered the room and turned her face away, but not before Tess had seen the tears which streaked it.
‘I’m just off to bed,’ Marianne said, her voice small and formal. ‘Cherie is well away. You’d best go up now, Tess, if you’re going out with Ashley tomorrow.’
Tess agreed that she really should go up, though she told Marianne, rather stiffly, that she had no intention of going anywhere with Ashley.
‘I don’t know what makes you think I am,’ she said crossly. ‘But I’m not – I told him I’m busy tomorrow and if he comes over he’ll just have to go off again.’
Marianne looked surprised.
‘Ashley asked me earlier if I could spare you tomorrow,’ she said. ‘He wanted to get you away from the place for a bit. I said I’d manage somehow.’
Tess laughed. ‘How absurd, Marianne – “manage somehow” indeed! If I were back at work you’d manage, wouldn’t you? Look, I’m very fond of Ash but he’s too bossy by half. I’m not seeing him tomorrow because I’ve got an old friend visiting. Are you going up to bed, now? If so, I’ll bring you up a hot drink when I come. What would you like?’
‘Oh . . . cocoa, please. And don’t wake me early, I’m going to have a lie-in.’
Tess bit back the words
You’ve had a lie-in every morning since Daddy died
and said, patiently, that she would get Cherie off to school before she went out herself. Marianne, half-way to the door, turned and frowned.
‘Cherie can’t go back to school yet; I can’t manage without her,’ she said. ‘Please don’t argue with me, Tess . . . I can’t lose her, too.’
‘Marianne, you aren’t losing me – and you most certainly aren’t losing Cherie,’ Tess said impatiently. ‘She has to go to school, but she’ll be back on the four fifteen and I’ll probably not be long after her.’
‘You don’t understand,’ Marianne said. ‘Who am I, Tess?’
‘You’re Marianne Delamere, Cherie’s maman and my stepmama,’ Tess said resignedly. ‘I know you’re a widow now, Marianne, but apart from that you haven’t changed, you’re still the same person you were.’
Marianne went across the room, opened the door, then turned to Tess, her mouth drooping.
‘No, you are wrong; I’m not the same person. I am only half a person now,’ she said, and the very fact that she spoke quietly and without emphasis made more of an impression on Tess. ‘And the half that’s been torn away hurts so much it scarcely seems worthwhile going on.’
Tess ran across the room and hugged her stepmother as hard as she could. Just for a moment she had seen into Marianne’s mind and what she saw there frightened her. Marianne’s loneliness and despair were all-encompassing. Her stepmother honestly felt that without Peter there was no point in her existence.
‘Don’t!’ she said sharply. ‘You’ve still got Cherie, and me for what I’m worth, and you’re young, Marianne! Daddy was special, but he wouldn’t want you to sink into despair just because – because he wasn’t around any more. Look, I’ve said I won’t join the WAAF yet awhile and I won’t, either. I’ll talk to my boss at work and see about the Land Army, and if Mr Rope will have me, I’ll be able to live at home . . . or if I have to live at the farm then at least I’ll be able to get back here whenever I have free time. And no more despair, do you hear me?’
Marianne sighed and rested her head on Tess’s shoulder for a moment, then with sudden decision she moved out of Tess’s embrace and gave her a watery smile.
‘You are a good girl,’ she said. ‘Nearly as good as your father thought you. I’ll try to come to terms with things. Good-night, my dear. See you in the morning.’
‘See you in the morning,’ Tess echoed. She had seldom felt so mentally and physically exhausted. Her stepmother, she could see, was going to be a big problem and for Peter’s sake she could not simply walk away from it. But she was too tired now to decide what best to do, and her boss at the museum would have to be consulted. Sadly, she saw her dreams of being a WAAF disappearing into the distance, but at least, if she stayed at home, she knew she would be doing what Peter wanted. And that would give her a good deal of satisfaction.
Wearily, she turned towards the pantry, to make her stepmother’s cocoa.
Tess woke whilst it was still dark with a pleasant sense of anticipation, feeling happier than she had done for days. She lay for a moment, savouring it without knowing what she was anticipating or why. Could it be just because she was to have a day off work? No, of course not, she knew what it was – she was going to see Andy!
Seeing him yesterday had been a terrific shock. Yet he wasn’t that different. Taller, with longer hair, but not that different. And older, of course. A man, in fact. A man who wore a dark suit instead of the holiday clothing of a thirteen-year-old boy – shorts, open-necked shirts, sandals.
If I’d looked at him properly I’d have known him anywhere though, she told herself now, trying to forget that he hadn’t registered with her until Lady Salter had said he was her nephew. Awful, not to recognise him on sight, but she’d expected the farm manager or someone of that sort to be accompanying Lady Salter. She’d simply had no idea that Andy was around. The last time she’d spoken to Lady Salter, at a regatta where that lady had been presenting the prizes, one of which Ashley and Tess had won, Lady Salter had told her that her nephew was working in France.
‘In the embassy?’ Tess had asked. ‘He hasn’t written to me for ages.’
‘No, not the embassy,’ Lady Salter had told her. ‘I’m not quite sure what he does, though his father is very proud of him, he tells me. All I do know is that he speaks French so well he could be mistaken for a native.’
She had made it sound a disreputable sort of thing, as though the native in question wore a grass skirt and a ring through his nose.
‘Oh,’ Tess had said, rather taken aback. ‘Well, perhaps we’ll see him in Norfolk again, one of these days.’
Lady Salter had given her a sharp look, almost a knowing look, before saying drily: ‘Who can say? Young people these days . . .’ and wandering off in mid-sentence.
But now, lying in bed, Tess hugged herself. She had longed and longed to be able to confide in someone about how she had learned her mother’s history after all her attempts, but she could not bear to be disloyal to Peter, and he hadn’t wanted Leonora’s story bruited abroad. But Andy was different. He didn’t
judge
people, Tess decided, getting out of bed and bounding across the icy lino to seize her dressing-gown off the back of the door. Well, the old Andy hadn’t, anyway. Ashley had been so horrible about Leonora that it had somehow managed to stay in Tess’s mind, a muddy black mark, not against her mother, but against Ashley himself. She had forgiven those cruel, thoughtless jibes, but she couldn’t forget them. And since then, she’d told nobody. It wasn’t the sort of thing you could put in a letter, which was why she’d never told Andy, and most of the people who would have understood knew Peter.
But now . . . Tess went quietly into the bathroom, lit the lamp – it was still dark outside – and then put a match to the geyser. When the chilly blue flames had turned to gold she began to run the hot water, and presently, climbed into the bath. She wasn’t supposed to have a bath in the morning, let alone a decent, deep one, but it would warm her up and get her ready for the day ahead. On reflection she decided not to wake Cherie; it wouldn’t hurt her to have another day off school, so she was quite surprised when, just as she stepped out of the tub and reached for a towel, the bathroom door opened and Cherie came into the room.