Never Just a Memory Read online

  At the time he was in lodgings, looking for prey, confident with his good deportment and well-honed, healthy, fair looks he’d quickly find a more luxurious place to rest his idle bones. Women thought him beautiful and fell for his raffish charm. They liked his roguish, cultured voice, his white-toothed smile, his touch of irresponsibility. They overlooked the fact that he was a lounge lizard and they queued up to win him, and when they had him, they sought to do the usual female thing of changing him, getting him to settle down, to stay exclusively theirs. This young woman would make a pleasing distraction, on the side, to the wealthy widow he had set his sights on.

  As she was a maternal sort, he played a trick to attract her caring side, pretending to have a headache, to be feeling a little faint, in great need to sit down quickly at a nearby table. A furtive glance. Yes, he had grabbed her awareness. ‘Forgive me.’ He’d piled on an apologetic smile. ‘It’s these wretched migraines.’

  As he’d wanted, she’d called for the waitress to fetch him a glass of water. He had admired her son. His fun-loving side made four-year-old Jonny respond well to him. By the time Ursula had left the tea shop he knew where she lived, that her lieutenant husband was away fighting at Ypres, and enough of her routine to engineer a seemingly chance meeting with her the following week in the town. Ursula loved her husband but she was bored. At first Bruce offered companionship. An expert at knowing when to tug on a woman’s heart, to make each move, he drew her in, and by the time he’d first got her into bed, to her having an affair with him was as natural as breathing. Ursula said, inevitably, that she loved him, that he made her happy. Just as inevitably, mechanically, he’d said it back. It had been strange to be caught unawares with her on his mind, missing her. Missing her dreadfully. Against his calculating nature, he had found himself planning to take her and Jonny away. He had had to get out of Truro anyway: too many of his debtors, including a crooked business associate of Ben Harvey’s, were after his blood.

  As he let the memories play on, they turned sad, difficult to cope with, and tears of remorse splashed down his now raddled face. He would have got both Ursula and Jonny away if not for the intervention of Alec Harvey. Harvey had given Ursula a hard choice. To let him raise her son until his father came home, to hide away and give her baby up, then ask for Tristan’s forgiveness, or to go off as planned and leave Jonny behind. Alec Harvey was taking Jonny either way and Ursula had chosen to go with Bruce so she could keep their baby. They’d left on the next train for Bristol. It was a shady, backstreet life he had taken Ursula to, and when the cruel landlord had come knocking for the overdue rent, he had run out on her. With no other choice, heavily pregnant and starving, she had made her way to Hennaford, begging all the way, turning up at Alec and Emilia Harvey’s wedding. Tristan Harvey was recovering at Ford Farm from battle wounds and she had pleaded for his forgiveness. He had taken her back but wouldn’t accept her child. Ursula had wanted the child so much. Again she had been faced with a terrible choice of either keeping Jonny or her baby.

  ‘If only I hadn’t really loved you and come back for you,’ Bruce whispered in despair.

  His reappearance and second plan to abscond with Ursula and abduct Jonny had been thwarted by Tristan Harvey and Emilia Harvey. His cowardice in running off again had led to Ursula’s death. If not for the distress he had caused her, Ursula might have lived and watched Jonny grow up. And her daughter, his daughter, might be well and alive somewhere.

  He checked his weeping, not wanting to upset Louisa. Soon he would make atonement for what he’d done, paying with more than just bitter regrets. He wasn’t long for this world and in the next one he would deservedly rot and suffer hell’s fire. ‘If I could just see you one more time, Ursula,’ he choked and coughed on the words. ‘And catch a glimpse of our little girl…’

  * * *

  ‘I always think March is a cold, windy month,’ Louisa said, already in her coat and scarf. ‘I’m going to wrap you up as warm as toast. Now, let’s take our time getting you down the stairs.’

  They were nearly at the foot, Bruce taking one slow, energy-leaching stair at a time, when they were startled by a knock on the door. ‘We’ll stay quiet,’ Louisa whispered. ‘Hopefully, whoever it is will come back later.’

  ‘Sorry, I’m disrupting your life.’ Bruce leaned heavily on the banisters.

  There was another knock. They waited. All went silent. They carried on down.

  ‘Hello! Louisa? Where are you?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ she gasped. ‘I forgot to lock the back door.’ There was no time to get Bruce back up to his room. ‘But we might not need to worry too much. It’s Faye Harvey. She won’t know who you are.’

  Faye appeared, carrying Simon through to the hall. ‘Oh, there you are. Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had company. I’ve brought Simon with me. Do you need a hand there? I’ll put Simon down somewhere.’

  ‘It’s all right, Faye. We can manage. I’ll just get Mr Ash into the bath chair.’

  ‘I should have rung.’ Faye gazed curiously at her friend’s guest. ‘You’re about to go out. I shan’t be staying long. I need to pop into the town to get some cod liver oil for the Smith children.’

  ‘I need to catch my breath before we venture outside,’ Bruce said, keeping his head down. ‘Do stop and speak to your friend, Louisa. I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs Harvey.’

  ‘And I you, Mr Ash.’ Faye thought it very strange that Louisa, even for one so modest about her charitable works, should not mention she was nursing someone. Louisa was obviously uncomfortable with her sudden presence. ‘Actually, it’s Miss Harvey.’ She was getting slick at correcting the taken-for-granted assumption on her status. The man didn’t even raise a brow over it.

  ‘Let’s all go along to the kitchen,’ Louisa cheeped brightly. ‘I’ve been baking bread and it’s lovely and warm in there.’

  When they were settled, with Bruce wheeled at a discreet distance by Louisa to where he couldn’t easily be focused on, Louisa said in bright conversation, ‘Simon is a dear. Can I hold him? How are the Smith children?’

  ‘They’re all really well.’ Faye handed Simon over. ‘I couldn’t imagine life without them now. The twins are excelling at school. Pearl is a quiet little soul.’ To Louisa’s dismay she went to Bruce. ‘Do you have any children, Mr Ash?’

  He was keeping his head down on his chest. Slowly he looked up then glanced down at once. ‘No, I don’t, Miss Harvey.’

  ‘Has there been any word from Uncle Ben?’ Louisa cut in loudly. She was opening the biscuit barrel to get a treat for Simon.

  Realizing how weak Mr Ash was, that a friendly conversation would be too much for him, Faye drew back. ‘Not a word. Uncle Tris thinks he’s doing some important war work, hush-hush stuff. I think it must be something like that after the mysterious call he received just before he took off. I’d so like to hear from him, just to know he’s all right. He was in such a state after his quarrel with Aunt Em. Whatever went on disturbed them both very much. Aunt Em said that she told him some home truths. I’m sure he needed it. Perhaps it’ll do him some good in the end. When he comes back he might be more open. I’m hoping he’ll accept Simon.’

  Louisa was now sitting with Simon bouncing on his sturdy legs on her lap. He was grinning and gurgling. There was no hint in him of what his father might look like: he was a Harvey through and through. ‘I’m sure Uncle Ben will be delighted when he sees Simon. I’m pleased you feel better about him.’

  ‘I want nothing more than for us to be one big happy family.’ Faye would have included Tristan in her remarks but it wouldn’t be kind to mention him here.

  ‘So all’s going well with the Smith children?’ Louisa was trying every ploy to keep Faye’s mind off Bruce.

  ‘They’re a bunch of little sweeties,’ Faye enthused. ‘Once they trusted us not to work them half to death, like they were in their last billet, it’s all been plain sailing. Eliza and the land girls dote on them. They’re a great help about the farm
, specially with the animals, and bless them, they’ve taken it upon themselves to collect paper and other salvage round the village.’

  ‘I suppose Pearl likes to help with Simon?’

  ‘Yes, but she’s so taken with…’ there was nothing for it but to add, ‘with Uncle Tris, she’s like a shadow at his side.’

  ‘Excuse me, is his son safe?’ Bruce asked.

  ‘Jonny? All was well quite recently,’ Faye replied. ‘You know him, Mr Ash?’

  Bruce shook his head. His deathly pale face turned a distressed red as he was seized by a terrible burst of coughing. Louisa passed Simon to Faye and fetched a drink of water. When the coughing stopped, Bruce’s breathing was noisy and hard won.

  ‘If you don’t mind, I think I’d better be running along.’ Faye withdrew sympathetically. Louisa went with her while she put Simon in his pushchair outside the back door. ‘I’m calling in at Aunt Em’s on the way home. There’s to be a discussion about Lottie’s wedding plans. I hope you’ll be able to come to the wedding on Saturday, Louisa.’

  ‘Hopefully, if Ada will be able to change her shifts around.’ Louisa half turned away, anxious to return to Bruce and not talk about him.

  Faye walked round her. ‘So she can be here with Mr Ash? Louisa, who is he?’

  ‘Oh, he’s just an old friend. Of Aunt Polly’s.’ Her face was tight over the lie.

  Faye saw she was on the defensive but said no more. Louisa looked paler than usual and weary. Faye didn’t know her well, but something was wrong. She was stalling with a reply to Tom’s proposal. ‘She’s very busy these days,’ was the only response that could be got out of Tom. It didn’t appear there was going to be another Harvey wedding in the immediate future. She gave Louisa a peck goodbye. ‘Well, let’s hope we can catch up properly soon. Bye. Take care.’

  Bruce was taking tiny, careful sips of water with a trembling hand. ‘Please don’t try to stop me going to Ursula.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’ Louisa took the glass from him. From the look of him it might be the last chance he’d get of saying goodbye to his long lost love.

  To the few neighbours who had seen her out with Bruce, she was taking him along the popular churchyard walk for an airing. As before, she left him alone beside Ursula’s grave, keeping watch in case someone came along so she could move him quickly away. It wouldn’t do for him to be seen viewing this particular resting place. All was peaceful, with pale yellow and pink primroses making their first gentle show on the hedgerows and the banks, and the trees were unfolding their leaves. Twenty minutes later she went back to him.

  ‘It’s time to go, Bruce,’ she whispered gently, reaching for his hand.

  ‘She’s never got any flowers,’ he wept. ‘She’s never had any flowers. I can’t give her any, people would wonder about it, and even Jonny has never left her some. Ursula loved flowers. She loved pretty things, and I took it all away from her. I deserve to burn in hell for what I’ve done.’

  ‘Bruce, don’t think like that. Ursula loved you. She wouldn’t wish that on you.’

  Stuttering and gasping he went on, ‘It’s how I left her. She must have been in hell giving birth to our child, knowing Tristan wouldn’t take her back again, that she’d only be able to see Jonny occasionally. She died a painful death. Even if she’d lived, there would have been so little to go on for. Just loneliness. Isolation as a fallen woman. Oh God! Oh God!’

  Louisa knelt down and, not caring if they were seen, she put her arms around him. ‘Bruce, please don’t get in a state. You’ll make yourself worse. There’s every chance you and Ursula will be together again. Don’t give up hope.’

  After a while he brought himself under control. ‘I’d like to go back now. Louisa, can you ask the vicar to call on me? It’s time I made a proper confession, to find peace, if I can.’ He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it and held on to it for a moment. He had grown to care deeply for this lovely young woman, who was so much more than bountiful. She had taken him in, continued with the commitment with grace, humour and true kindness. Doing things for him that even a close relative wouldn’t care to do. If not for her, he would already have died in misery and been resigned to a pauper’s grave. He didn’t want her to grieve or worry after he’d gone, to bear regrets. He’d see the vicar for her sake. No matter how wretched he felt, from now on he’d keep it to himself. He wanted her to believe he’d died content. The last memories of him to be good. ‘Thank you so much for bringing me here again. I hope Tom Harvey appreciates what a lucky young man he is. He doesn’t call on you as much as he used to, I’ve noticed.’

  ‘He’s very busy on the farm.’ Louisa pushed thoughts of Tom ruthlessly out of her head. She was getting good at it: it was too complicated to consider becoming Tom’s wife. There would be time in the future to consider if she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, if she loved him as much as she had David. She had conceded to herself that their differences stretched to something on the same par as Lottie’s to Nate Harmon’s. They were making things work, but it seemed the spark, the burning need had gone out of her and Tom’s relationship. Perhaps when there was the chance it would all come back.

  She felt she should stand back and give Bruce another quiet moment.

  Bruce gazed down at the lonely name on the headstone. ‘Goodbye, my darling. Wherever I end up, you’ll have my love for ever.’

  * * *

  When Faye got to Ford Farm, everyone was there. The arrangements for the wedding were made during a quick break. It was to be an occasion shared by the whole community in the Methodist social rooms. ‘Well, that’s all decided,’ Emilia said. ‘The rector’s only concern is that the bridegroom and his best man’s leave aren’t cancelled on the day.’

  ‘We’ll make it a good do for you, Miss Lottie.’ Tilda dabbed her moist eyes with her apron. ‘With the whole village chipping in and bringing a plate of something, there’ll be plenty of food to go round. It’s just what we all need during these hard times. Oh, Miss Lottie, I can’t believe you’re getting married!’

  Lottie laughed and hugged her. ‘Neither can I. Well, we’d better get back to work.’ She glanced at Tom, who was swigging down a bottle of ginger beer, so eager to get outside again he was at the door.

  ‘If I had my way I’d make it a double wedding.’ As the words left his lips he wasn’t sure if it was what he wanted. Louisa kept her distance from him in every way. Sometimes he sensed she wasn’t pleased when he was at her house. Then he remembered how good things had been between them, how passionate and exciting. She must simply be worn out nursing her gravely ill guest.

  ‘That would be a little difficult,’ Faye said. ‘Louisa’s got a lot on her plate. Tom, you must know about Mr Ash, who’s staying with her. Why have you never mentioned him?’

  ‘Because Louisa asked me not to,’ he barked, turning bright red, dribbling drink down his chin.

  ‘Mr Ash?’ Emilia frowned at Tom. ‘Who’s he then when he’s at home?’

  Tom was saved from answering by Sidney Eathorne sticking his head round from the back kitchen. No doubt he’d got wind of the discussion. ‘Hope I’m not intruding.’ He winked conspiratorially. ‘I’d put back a bit of sausage meat for you. Just thought I’d pop in with it. Any tea left in that pot?’

  ‘Come along in, Sidney.’ Perry got up from the table and offered him his chair.

  Flourishing his white coat and striped apron as if he was wearing dress tails, Sidney sat down. ‘Did you know that pair of evacuee rascals are running about your front garden, Mrs Em?’

  ‘The twins are very well behaved,’ Emilia said crisply. ‘As you already know.’

  Not liking the look of the butcher, Pearl, up on Tristan’s lap, hid her face against him. Every other pair of eyes in the room was turned charily on Sidney.

  Sidney wasn’t fazed at all. A lifetime of being a busybody had rendered him immune to impatient glares. ‘May I ask what the bride will wear? Something run up from butter muslin?’
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br />   ‘My mother’s wedding dress,’ Lottie gave the information loftily.

  ‘How nice. If you’re looking for something old, the wife’s said to say she’s got a very nice three-strand pearl necklace. It has a diamond clasp. She wore it on our big day.’

  As haughty as she knew how, Lottie breathed, ‘No, thank you. Everything’s been taken care of.’

  Sidney smiled at her as if he were nothing more than a dear old village character. ‘I’m so pleased, but I don’t envy you starting out on married life at a time like this. Well, mustn’t hang about drinking tea when there’s deliveries waiting to be made. See you all in church.’

  ‘He’ll be there bright and early to give it an inspection,’ Lottie seethed. ‘The old bugger had better not make any remarks about Nate and his friends.’

  ‘Steady on. Language,’ Tristan reprimanded her.

  Tilda, the most faithful churchgoer among them, shook her finger at Lottie. ‘Yes, young lady. Don’t forget there’s a child present. But although I would never use such a word myself, I agree that his runaway tongue has been known to cause trouble.’

  ‘The man’s gone now, poppet.’ Tristan kissed the top of Pearl’s head. He was enjoying having lots of company in the house, especially a little girl who reminded him of Adele. He was excited over the news that his daughter would have leave from Portsmouth for the wedding. If Jonny could make it, it would be the icing on the cake. He grinned to himself: there was no icing sugar to be had nowadays and cakes were either covered by a white cardboard façade lent by the baker or a tasteless, gooey sort of chocolate. He could make these little musings because he was happy and needed, no longer lonely. Strange that Tom could be described as being lonely and unhappy now. ‘Well, we’d better get back, Faye. We’ll need to butter up the children to get that cod liver oil down them. Let us know if there’s anything we can do before Saturday, Em.’