The Downstairs Maid (41 page)

Seeing his mother’s anxiety, Emily had reassured her that she thought he was improving all the time. He spent an hour or two every afternoon lying on his bed, but he had begun to venture out into the garden. As yet he couldn’t undertake any heavy work, but he’d fetched a hoe from the shed and she’d seen him struggling to chop up the weeds. It had taken him a long time to clear a small patch, but when he came in from their small garden he’d looked more cheerful than she’d seen him in months.

‘I’ve done a bit for you, Em,’ he said, copying his father’s manner of addressing her. ‘I’ll do some more another day.’

‘Thank you.’ She moved away to the sink, filling the big copper kettle with water. Her instincts had been to tell him not to tire himself, but she knew that was the worst thing she could do. He enjoyed doing what he could and perhaps that was for the best. Besides, the doctors had told her not to fuss over him, but to let him do things in his own time. She’d tried to tell Mrs Johnson but her remarks had been met with a look of accusation and so she kept quiet when she saw his mother trying to help and being brusquely refused.

As she returned from the library, Emily saw that her father’s old shop was empty again. She crossed the road to look at it and read the notice in the window – the rent was just ten shillings a week. For a moment her heart beat rapidly. Pa had had such high hopes for the shop once – and she still had most of the fifty pounds he’d left her, because Mr Johnson had insisted on paying for the furniture for their cottage.

Could she – dare she take it on? It was true that Christopher couldn’t mend things the way he had once, but he could look after a shop. At least, she thought he might be able to manage it, because he was trying to do what he could in the garden now. But would he want to? Would he be angry if she suggested it?

She made a note of the telephone number and slipped the paper in her pocket. She could phone from the newsagent on the corner in Witchford for a small payment, if she dare. If Christopher was agreeable she thought she had enough money to start them off, and they could deal in small pretty things – decent stuff that didn’t need mending. Emily wouldn’t mind buying in the market or even going out on the rounds with a cart as Pa had done. Of course she couldn’t lift anything heavy and Christopher couldn’t either – but small pretty things had always sold the best. If they made a success of it she could employ a young lad to help her …

The excitement surged through her and she was smiling as she turned and almost bumped into someone.

‘Thinking of going into business, Emily?’

Her heart caught as she saw Nicolas and then it started to race. She couldn’t breathe and for a moment she thought she might faint.

‘Pa’s old shop is empty,’ she said. ‘I should like to open it again – if Christopher agrees.’

‘How is your husband?’

‘We’re not married yet. Christopher insisted we should wait until he could walk down the aisle with me … but it’s booked for the end of the month, because he is a little better.’

‘Congratulations,’ he said, his eyes serious as they swept over her. ‘What about you, Emily? Are you happy?’

‘I’m trying to be,’ she answered him truthfully. ‘It isn’t easy for either of us – but you look well. Are you home on leave?’

‘I’m here on a training course. I’m one of the senior pilots now, Emily. They asked me to do six months over here training the youngsters. Too many of them think it’s all a lark and they do stupid things, like flying under bridges and looping the loop when they should be looking for the Hun. We’ve lost quite a few promising young men through stupid pranks.’

‘I’m sorry about that …’ Emily’s breathing was returning to normal, though his nearness made her weak at the knees. ‘I shall be glad to think that you’re safe.’

‘Sometimes I wonder whether any of it is worth the bother …’ His voice throbbed with emotion. ‘I miss seeing you, Emily …’

Tears stung her eyes and threatened to well over. He mustn’t think or speak that way, because it made their situation worse. She could bear her life the way it was – but only if she didn’t think of Nicolas.

‘I ought to go …’

‘There isn’t a bus for another hour. Let me take you to lunch at the Temperance – please Emily. Is it so much to ask?’

‘No, it isn’t – but people would talk if we were seen together. Someone would be bound to tell Christopher’s father or mother. I can’t hurt him like that … it wouldn’t be fair.’

‘What about me?’ Nicolas said and then gave her a wry smile. ‘I’m wasting my breath, aren’t I? Christopher is a very lucky man …’

He turned and walked away, leaving Emily staring after him. The pain swathed through her. She wanted to call him back, to say that she would lunch with him at the small hotel, but the words stuck in her throat. If she did that her resolve would crumble – and she couldn’t let Christopher down now. Besides, she didn’t want a dirty little affair.

She mustn’t even think of Nicolas. The church was booked and Sir Arthur had told them they could have a reception in his annexe. Not that there would be many guests, because Christopher had invited only his family and she had asked just Mrs Hattersley and Miss Lizzie. She hadn’t even considered asking her mother, though she couldn’t help thinking that she would have liked Jack to be at her wedding.

Every time she visited Ely she thought about her brother and wondered if he was well. It was nearly a year since she’d seen him and he must be walking by now – and talking properly … unless he was still very backward? The thought of her young brother made her throat catch, but she couldn’t go to see him … she couldn’t risk seeing her uncle.

For a moment she felt so alone. If only her father hadn’t died … if he’d been alive she could have gone home sometimes. She couldn’t afford to feel sorry for herself or regret the things she couldn’t have. She must just make the most of her life.

Holding on to her tears as best she could, Emily walked round to the cattle market. The sale would be starting soon and she’d seen a box with an assortment of glass. If it went cheap she would buy it, because wrapped in tissue right at the bottom was a Georgian glass with a spiral stem. The rest of the things were moulded glass, which she could use in the cottage, but the glass was worth something – and if she persuaded Christopher to open the shop again, it would become a part of their stock.

‘Did you have a good morning?’ Christopher asked as she struggled in with all her parcels and the box of glass. ‘I was beginning to wonder if you’d run off.’ He smiled as he spoke and she laughed, liking it that he could tease her sometimes. Theirs was a difficult situation, but just now and then she felt the old friendship, the warmth that had been theirs when he worked for her father.

‘I wanted this box from the auction, but they were ages getting to it,’ Emily said. ‘Most of it is just bits and pieces for the house, but there’s a lovely air twist glass.’

‘Is it perfect?’

‘Yes. I wouldn’t have bought it otherwise.’

‘You’ve got more business sense than Joe,’ Christopher said. He looked at her for a moment, then, ‘I’ve been told your pa’s old shop is for rent – ten bob a week. I was wondering …’

‘Were you thinking we could run it together?’ Emily asked, her face lighting up. ‘I’ve got the landlord’s telephone number here in my pocket. The Post Office let people use their phone for a small fee. If we dealt in small pretty things that didn’t need repairs you could manage it … couldn’t you?’

‘I thought we might have a go,’ Christopher said and looked more animated than she’d seen him since before the war. ‘We could put out some leaflets, Em – and borrow a cart once a week. You’ve got a good eye for stuff and I think I should still be able to sell things – even if this is useless.’ He held up his clawlike hand with a rueful smile.

Emily felt the relief sweep over her. She’d thought he might never smile again. Moving towards him, she put her arms about his waist, lifted her head and kissed him, softly, on the lips until he put his right arm about her and pulled her in close. Their kiss deepened and when he let her go, she nestled her head against him, just standing there, feeling happy that at last he’d thrown off the mood of depression that had come with him from the hospital.

‘You’re feeling better,’ she said. ‘I’m so glad.’

He looked down at her, an enquiring smile in his eyes. ‘You are happy, aren’t you? No regrets – only if you have, tell me now. My mother was here this morning, on about the wedding and how lucky I am to have you, Emily. If it isn’t what you want say something, because …’

She reached up to kiss him again. He sighed and touched her face.

‘You’re so lovely and I know what I look like. I’ll always need help, even though I managed the stairs while you were gone. It isn’t much of a life for you, Emily.’

‘I think I should find it hard living here with nothing else to do, because I’ve always been busy – but if we have the shop to plan for it will give us both something to keep us occupied.’

If they could have their own small business they could make some sort of a life for themselves. Christopher needed something to occupy his mind, and she would feel better if he were more like his old self.

‘Show me that glass …’ Christopher looked eager as she went to take it from the box, unwrapping it carefully to show him. The tall slender glass had a tiny fluted bowl at the top and a stem with a white spiral running all through. Christopher turned it over and looked at the rough pontil mark on the bottom. ‘That’s where they break it off when they’ve finished blowing it … it’s old, Emily, and perfect, just as you said.’ He set it down on the table carefully and she carried it to the dresser, putting it at the back of the shelf so that it would be safe. ‘I’ve got a box of bits in the attic at home. Nothing as good as this, but pretty things I was saving for you. I reckon we could have the shop open by September, don’t you?’

‘After the wedding,’ Emily agreed. ‘It will be fun, Christopher. We’ll share the workload and in time – when we have a family – you’ll be strong enough to look after it yourself.’

His smile dimmed. ‘I’m not sure we’ll have a family, Emily …’

Emily felt the disappointment hit her, though she struggled not to show it. She’d always hoped to have at least three children of her own, but she couldn’t let Christopher see her distress.

‘Well, we’ll make a go of the shop then,’ she said. ‘I’m sure I can find enough to keep me busy …’

As she unpacked the rest of her shopping she was fighting the selfish tears. Christopher had lost so much. She mustn’t weep just because another of her dreams had crashed in flames.

‘I’ll be out in the garden if you need me, love.’

Emily nodded but couldn’t bring herself to look at him. The empty years seemed to stretch ahead of her. She’d hoped children would provide a direction and purpose to her life, but if Christopher couldn’t give her children … just what kind of a marriage would it be?

Yet she had to make the best of it. She wasn’t going to give in to regret or disappointment. Somehow she would make a good life for them both.

‘I hope you will be very happy, Emily,’ Miss Lizzie said and kissed her cheek. ‘I hope you didn’t mind my bringing Nicolas? He wanted to come and you said you hadn’t got many guests of your own.’

‘No, of course not,’ Emily said, putting on a smile despite the way her heart lurched at the sight of Nicolas in his uniform. His eyes seemed to dwell on her and he wasn’t smiling. She felt he was angry with her – angry because she’d chosen duty above love. Yet he must know that she couldn’t have married him even if she hadn’t felt Christopher needed her. ‘It is just a buffet and Mrs Johnson has provided far more than we shall need.’

‘We hope you will like our present,’ Miss Lizzie said. ‘It’s a set of Coalport china – tea and coffee service. I wasn’t sure but Nicolas thought you would like it.’

‘It is perfect but far too expensive. I shall keep it for best,’ Emily said. ‘You look well – and happy?’

‘I’m enjoying my job at the convalescent home.’

Miss Lizzie’s eyes were full of secrets. Emily wondered what else was making her smile but didn’t ask.

‘How is Miss Amy?’

‘Oh, she’s working with the fire service in London. She hasn’t written for weeks. Mama is cross with her, but she’s probably too busy to think about us.’

‘Would you rather be in London with her?’

‘Not now.’ Miss Lizzie’s smile was confident and content.

Emily turned away to greet someone else. She was aware of Nicolas watching her all the time they were making speeches, toasting the bride and groom and cutting the cake. Emily saw the smouldering anger in his eyes and fought her tears. He probably hated her for choosing Christopher and perhaps that was best. She was Mrs Christopher Johnson now. The die was cast and there was no going back.

‘Alone at last,’ Christopher said as he closed the door behind him. ‘You won’t have to leave me tonight, Emily.’ He reached out to pick some confetti from her hair. ‘Have I told you how beautiful you are?’

‘Not for ten minutes,’ she said. ‘I’m feeling quite deprived …’ She gave a gurgle of laughter as he reached out to draw her close, his mouth eager as he kissed her deeply. Emily opened to him and leaned into his body, wanting it to be right. If they were going to make a success of their marriage she must never draw back, never allow Christopher to know that she longed for another man’s arms.

‘I love you, Mrs Johnson.’

‘Me too,’ she said because it was too hard to say ‘I love you’.

‘Sir Arthur sent this over for us.’ Christopher showed her the bottle of wine on the table. He’d set it on a tray with two pretty glasses that had been a part of the gift. The corkscrew was lying there waiting. He picked it up, then frowned and handed it to Emily. She accepted it from him, drove the metal spiral into the cork and then pulled. It came out with a little pop, making them both laugh. Emily poured the wine and gave Christopher his glass. He drank all the wine and then poured himself another. ‘Why don’t you go up now, Emily?’ he suggested. ‘I’ll come in a while.’

‘Yes, it won’t take me long to get ready.’

Emily felt warmed by his consideration. He was giving her time to get undressed and into bed.