The Fall and Rise of Lucy Charlton (38 page)

The churchyard was full of gossiping people. They looked let down because there would be no wedding feast and that was always the best bit. He was sorry he had written a speech, not something that came naturally to him, and as the area gradually emptied and the guests went back to their homes Joe went on to the hotel and cancelled everything. He had half thought he might urge them to go there and eat and make merry – since it was all paid for – but it didn’t seem right. He was only glad that Edgar was paying for it, the bastard.

He didn’t understand what the hell Edgar was doing. He certainly loved her; he had done everything he could to help her. It wasn’t like Edgar not to go through with such a thing, for he was so much the gentleman, he would not let her down at the last minute, he would have worked out long
before that this was not a good idea and stopped before it got this far. And yet he hadn’t.

Joe went back to Durham, still in his wedding finery, taking the two Misses Slaters and Mrs Formby and Tilda and Clay. He thought he could do no good returning to Lucy’s house, he wouldn’t be wanted there. On the way back it occurred to him that he was glad they hadn’t married. It had always been a stupid idea and unless he was a complete idiot Lucy didn’t want Edgar at all. Perhaps she liked him very much – she admired him and was grateful for everything he had done for her and for her family – but he didn’t think Lucy had an ounce of lust in her for Edgar Bainbridge. She had none for any man; she was too scared. He didn’t know what or who had scared her, and she’d never said anything, but at least Edgar had had the sense to save them from a bigger disaster. Maybe when she calmed down she would be able to see it.

He would help her now if she would let him.

Nobody spoke all the way back to Durham. The Misses Slaters went home and changed and made sandwiches. Joe went to the garage because he couldn’t rest and then on to Mr Palmer’s house because he knew that Mrs Palmer would give him tea and cake no matter what time he went. They were both there, and Joe sat down and told them the whole story. They were horrified.

‘Oh, that poor girl,’ said Mrs Palmer, and Mr Palmer shook his head.

‘The poor bugger must’ve been terrified,’ he said. Joe didn’t think he meant Lucy.

*

It was far too late for visitors, Edgar knew, so why was the hammering on his front door going on and on? He thought at first that it was his sister but it was too heavy even for Emily in a rage. He hadn’t expected her back, was counting on it.

In the end he went and hauled it open and there stood Joe, still wearing morning dress, and the rain was pouring down again. He looked so stupid, Edgar thought, as though he had been through a storm – his clothes were wet and creased and crumpled. Edgar left the door open and went back inside to the comfort of his drawing room. Joe followed.

‘Have some whisky,’ Edgar said largely, gesturing with his glass. Since he had drunk so much he didn’t want anyone there who was sober.

Joe went across and poured a large quantity of it into a squat glass. He joined Edgar at the fire.

‘Nasty night,’ he said.

‘I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here,’ Edgar complained. ‘I thought that Peter might have had the decency, but I don’t want you bloody telling me what to do.’

‘I haven’t told anybody what to do since I came back from France,’ Joe said, as he settled himself into an armchair by the fire and regarded the whisky with some respect before putting the glass to his lips.

‘Does Lucy know you’re here?’

‘She would probably have instructed me to pull your head off.’

‘Feel free,’ Edgar said.

‘I’m not sure I could twist your neck properly any more. You lose the skills you don’t keep up with.’ Joe lowered himself
further into the armchair, shivered and sipped at his drink.

Edgar sat down too and gazed into the fire.

‘What the hell are you doing in Durham anyway?’

‘I live here, idiot.’

Edgar ignored him and took another slurp.

‘I tried to talk to her. She was so pleased with the idea of the practice and the house and she had even got as far as rearranging the furniture, but she wouldn’t say anything. She wanted security for her family and to be a solicitor. I think the rest of it got lost somehow.’

‘And you?’

The question was so soft that Edgar almost didn’t hear it.

‘I wanted her,’ he said. ‘I hadn’t been in love since 1916 and it was more than that, so much more. I thought we would have children and see her family from time to time, we’d go to the park on Sundays and have big dinners, you know, with her mother. I thought that Emily might not go off to London so that we could be a family. It was going to be so perfect. Lucy’s become so very beautiful, and I was afraid that someone would steal her away.’

‘She got her dress all wet and dirty,’ Joe said. ‘She’ll never be able to wear it again.’

The fire crackled and fell apart. Edgar wasn’t surprised. It had become a huge effort to put coal on it. He was exhausted.

‘Why does it always rain?’

‘So that we can blame it. If that happened on a nice sunny day with the park all full of roses it would seem like an insult.’

Edgar glanced at the dark window; with a wind behind it the rain was ceaseless.

‘I should go and see her.’

‘I wouldn’t if I were you.’ Joe looked at him, then shook his head slowly.

‘I would leave it a while. Like a year.’

Edgar got up and fetched the whisky bottle. He poured generously for them both, being very careful since he wasn’t that steady. He didn’t spill a drop, and he was quite proud of this. He staggered to his chair with the bottle in one hand and his glass in the other, hoping Joe hadn’t noticed.

‘So why didn’t you turn up?’ Joe said, at length.

‘Because she doesn’t want me.’ Edgar waved his glass in the air. ‘I knew it weeks ago and I kept telling myself that she would come round, that a lot of women are scared, but it wasn’t like that, it was something more. She wouldn’t tell me what it was and in the end I couldn’t ask any further. She wouldn’t even let me touch her. I don’t understand. How could you marry somebody when their touch is repulsive to you?’

‘She was afraid.’

Edgar looked at him.

‘What, of me?’

‘No, of any man, I think.’

‘Oh, for God’s sake.’ Edgar got up and walked about the room in agitation and then wished he hadn’t and sat back down again. ‘But why? I wasn’t going to hurt her.’

‘I have a feeling the damage was already done.’

Edgar looked sharply at him.

‘What gave you that impression?’

‘I don’t know, just instinct somehow. She shies away.’

Edgar frowned.

‘God, you could be right. That I never thought about.’

‘Maybe she was worried you would be upset.’

‘I would be upset?’ Edgar stared at him.

‘Well, wouldn’t you?’

‘I don’t think so. I mean if a woman’s been widowed it doesn’t stop another man marrying her.’

‘That’s different though, isn’t it?’

‘I had a woman in France until her husband came back. I thought perhaps … I hoped that he’d died. To be fair I think she did too, but I couldn’t go so far as to bring her back here when she was somebody else’s wife. So I came home without her.’

‘Exactly,’ Joe said. ‘In your kind of business these things matter.’

‘Only if people know.’

‘And if you knew?’

‘Maybe some bad experience when Lucy was a student?’ Edgar frowned. ‘Yes,’ he said finally, ‘yes, I would care. And she was going to let me go ahead and find out on our wedding night? I don’t like that.’

‘Sometimes people have to take a chance.’

‘Women shouldn’t take chances with such things.’

‘And that is the point,’ Joe said.

‘She should have told me.’

‘What a huge risk and so much to lose.’

‘Well, it’s all gone now,’ Edgar said. He emptied his glass and stared into it.

‘Maybe you don’t love her that much.’

‘I don’t think I could love any woman that much,’ Edgar said. ‘Wouldn’t it matter to you?’

‘Not after what I did.’

‘What did you do?’

So Joe told him.

‘You were a bloody idiot, but it’s perfectly understandable.’

‘Not for a woman though, eh?’

‘I wonder why she didn’t marry him. And if she gave herself to a married man then I wouldn’t want anything to do with her,’ Edgar said.

‘And if it wasn’t like that?’

‘What, she got it wrong? Misjudgement?’

‘Worse?’

‘I’m not sure there is worse,’ Edgar said.

‘That’s because you can’t face what you’ve done and you’re drunk,’ Joe said.

‘There’s another bottle in the court cupboard. See if you can find it,’ Edgar said.

*

It was difficult getting the dress off. Gemma had to peel the soaked material away from Lucy’s skin. Lucy would have dragged it off had she been able but it took time and patience which neither of them had, Gemma thought. She just helped until her sister stood there, shivering in her underwear. Gemma handed her a thick dressing gown.

Emily was downstairs, trying to talk to their mother. Gemma couldn’t hear her but she was certain it was not an easy conversation. Their mother had gone from the chance of security and prosperity to poverty in two hours and it was not an easy thing to face. Lucy was white, almost translucent.
Emily also had the children with her and their father needed looking after too. Gemma would have gone downstairs to help except that she didn’t like to leave her sister. Lucy hadn’t spoken.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said now. ‘I can’t stop thinking about the church and all those people and my friends, Miss Slater and Miss Bethany and Mrs Formby – they all came from Durham to see me married. I’m so ashamed, I behaved so badly. What must they think?’

Gemma’s heart pulled.

‘You didn’t do anything. This isn’t your fault.’

‘Yes, it is.’ Lucy’s voice broke.

‘It’s Edgar’s fault.’

‘No.’ Lucy shook her head wildly. ‘He’s a perfectly nice man and he loves me and the only reason he didn’t come to the wedding is because I treated him so badly.’ She sat down on the bed, sobbing.

Gemma sat down with her. The bed creaked as though it couldn’t withstand two people’s weight.

‘You did everything you could. You worked with him and you were nice to his sister and—’

‘I couldn’t let him near me. I just couldn’t do it. And I couldn’t tell him about Guy, but all I could think about was what Guy did to me.’

Gemma took her sister into her arms while Lucy cried.

‘I’m never going to want a man anywhere near me again and I don’t think you are either. I feel like he stole everything away.’

‘Guy seemed so genuine,’ Gemma said, and she smiled against herself. ‘I needed to marry decently because I
was so worried about Father. I didn’t see Guy for what he was.’

‘How could you know such things?’ Lucy sniffed and moved back and for the first time Gemma saw a hint that she was getting better.

‘I feel guilty about what I did to you.’

Lucy looked at her. ‘I don’t think that’s fair to any of us and besides here we are together, with not a man in sight. Mother was counting on this.’

‘Well, she’s going to have to learn not to count on things, like the rest of us have had to.’

‘It would have been so nice.’ Lucy sat back and then said in a more determined voice, ‘Go and ask Emily to come up, will you? She must feel awful and it’s nothing to do with her.’

Gemma nodded and she went off downstairs. Emily looked so uncomfortable in the kitchen and relieved when told she could go upstairs. She was still wearing the sky-blue dress which looked so pretty on her.

She trudged up two flights with a cup and saucer in her hand.

*

Emily opened the door and put down the tea on the dressing table.

‘Is this heaven? It’s certainly far enough.’ she said.

Lucy smiled and got up and hugged her. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘You’re sorry? What about my brother?’

‘It’s nothing to do with him. I wish I hadn’t put him through it.’

Emily stared. ‘You don’t love him?’

Lucy squirmed. ‘I thought I did. I think it all got ravelled up, how I wanted to be a solicitor and mistress of your lovely house and how well Edgar is connected. You know.’

Emily looked at her. ‘I don’t, but then I do. What is it? What happened?’

The tears began to run down Lucy’s face but she couldn’t say anything. It was only when the sobs bettered her that she allowed the other girl to come to her.

‘Oh, God,’ Emily said.

Lucy had not realized that she could cry so hard and so much without feeling sick, without feeling that she should draw back from whoever was comforting her, but Emily held her tight as though she knew. She said nothing, even when Lucy couldn’t cry any more, even when the day was long gone and the evening had wrapped its cruel arms around everything and urged them to move on.

‘I just couldn’t,’ Lucy said. ‘Your brother is so nice, but I can’t marry him.’

Emily looked into Lucy’s face and then she said, defiantly, ‘I was almost persuaded once or twice myself by various nice men. I know it isn’t the same thing but I did so want children.’

Lucy shook her head. ‘What about you? What will you do now?’

‘Oh, I’ll be all right. I’m going to London,’ Emily said.

*

The following day, when Emily reached home, the house appeared deserted. She let herself in with her key and walked through the hall. It was empty and echoed somehow, her footsteps making a huge sound.

She went into the drawing room and there her brother lay upon the sofa, asleep. He did not wake up, he didn’t hear her, so she sat down and waited. When he did not stir after a few minutes she went upstairs. Her cases were packed, her room looked unoccupied, as though she had already left. In her mind and heart she had.

Lady Toddington had written to her twice and offered to help and she had written back enthusiastically. She had been eager to make a new life there; she thought she could run from this. Somehow it seemed pointless now.

When she made her way downstairs he was on his feet. He looked sheepishly at her.