Hope at Holly Cottage (12 page)

‘Yes. Gilbert told me about it. And how your mother died in a tragic accident only last year, and your father … well, just recently. I’m so sorry.’

Anna gave a rueful smile. ‘It wasn’t quite how you might imagine. Not with my dad, anyway. It was an odd situation.’

‘Really? Do you want to talk about it?’

Anna blinked at her and considered. She had to admit that having no one to talk to since coming back to Ashcroft Hall hadn’t been easy, especially with the added problem of her torn emotions over Gilbert. No wonder she’d been feeling rough. Unburdening herself to Frankie might help, though she’d have to be careful what she said.

‘All right. But I mustn’t be long.’

Frankie had already sat down on the edge of the bed, one leg curled up beneath the other, and Anna went to join her. It crossed her mind that it was a bit like being with Ethel. Not that anyone could ever take Ethel’s place.

‘I was very close to my mum,’ she began, pouting her lips to fight the grief that instantly tried to close her throat whenever she thought of her mother. ‘I don’t suppose I’ll ever get over it properly. And I was there when it happened. She was only thirty-nine.’ Anna paused, lost for a moment in her own thoughts. But then she looked up sharply, brimming over with remorse. ‘But you lost your mum, too.’

‘When I was little. I’ve no memory of her whatsoever, so it wasn’t the same. But I’m dreading it when … when … Going through what you are over your mother. And your father, too.’

Anna raised her eyebrows. Despite her juvenile manner, there was a depth in Francesca Ashcroft that reminded Anna in some way of Ethel. It struck her that she was going to miss Frankie, too.

‘It was different with him,’ she told her, almost apologetically. ‘I still don’t know how I feel about it. He’d been difficult ever since his injury in the war. His brain was affected, you see. He was a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde afterwards. So we weren’t really that close anymore.’

‘But he was still your father,’ Frankie whispered. And Anna saw tears welling in her lovely eyes. She was thinking of her own dad, wasn’t she, and what was to come? Anna instinctively squeezed her hand.

‘It won’t be easy for you either, but you’ve got your friends and your new family around you.’

Frankie nodded and sniffed, and Anna saw a light shining in her glistening eyes. ‘Yes. And more than anything, I’ve got Gilbert. He’s a wonderful husband, you know. So supportive. I know we’ve known each other all our lives, but I couldn’t have married a better man.’

Anna arranged her face into a smile. A better man! Just now, Anna couldn’t think of a more perfidious monster on earth! All her feelings of contempt and disgust rose up again, and she was gripped in another spasm of nausea. Only this time it was overwhelming and she knew she was going to be sick. She sprang up and dashed into the adjoining bathroom before vomiting into the lavatory.

‘Oh, Anna, are you all right?’ Frankie’s concerned tones reached her from the doorway.

Anna straightened up and pulled the chain. Dear Lord, she felt awful, the tears the retching had brought to her eyes running down her cheeks. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. Using your bathroom like that.’

‘Don’t mention it.’

‘I think I must have picked up a bug or something,’ Anna murmured miserably.

‘You should go and lie down for a while. I’ll tell them downstairs you’re not well. We’re all entitled to be ill sometimes, you know.’

‘I don’t know about that. Mrs Davenport won’t be very pleased.’

‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll deal with her.’

Her suddenly firm attitude took Anna by surprise. She was learning that Frankie was a much stronger character than she initially appeared.

‘Go on, go up to your room,’ Frankie was insisting now. ‘Or would you like me to come up with you?’

‘No. No thank you,’ Anna replied, overwhelmed by her kindness.

‘Up you go, then.’

Anna dragged herself up the stairs. Her little room, so cold in winter, was like an oven in the summer heat, despite the open window. She kicked off her shoes and lay down on the bed. Oh, that was better, the nausea passing now that she’d been sick. It must have been something she’d eaten, although no one else had been ill. If she had a little rest, she’d be all right. Just ten minutes and she’d go back downstairs.

She tried to get comfortable, but her chest was so sore and
had been for a week or more. She got that sometimes when her period was late. It must be due soon. Trouble was, she was so irregular, she was inclined to lose track. And especially with everything that had happened – Gilbert’s marriage, her dad attacking Ethel and then being knocked down and killed by the lorry – it had been the last thing on her mind.

So, when had she last been on? It was … was … ages ago. Shortly before she’d made the mistake of her life with Gilbert. Back in April. And it was nearly the end of June.

A cold numbness began to creep through her veins like a slithering evil and she sat bolt upright on the bed. Oh, God. No. Surely it couldn’t be? After just that once? A desolate fist tightened in her chest. She was, wasn’t she? She was pregnant.

The shock had sent her reeling. It felt unreal, as if this wasn’t happening. One of those moments when you feel detached, watching someone else’s life and not your own. A sudden emptiness, a shell, devoid of all feeling. And then slowly, her senses had trickled back. Oh, no.
Oh, no
. The words weighed down on her like a black fog from which there was no escape.

Dear God. She shook her head, wanting to throw out the terrible truth, but she couldn’t, could she? Fate had played her a dirty trick and now she would have to face the consequences. Just as she thought her life was getting back on track, she had been dealt this devastating blow and now her world lay in splinters at her feet.

What was she to do? Her first thought was to turn to Ethel, but she couldn’t. Her parents had been so good to her, but what would they think of her now with – she hardly dared say it – an illegitimate baby on the way? And she knew
Ethel’s views. What was it she had said? Only wayward strumpets get up to that sort of thing? Oh, Lord, she was all alone now. She would have to face the future on her own. With Gilbert’s child.

So, she wasn’t entirely alone, was she? Gilbert would simply have to take responsibility for his actions. A new life was growing inside her, and for its sake alone, she must fight. So when she finally found herself alone with Gilbert, she didn’t hesitate. He was working in the study one afternoon and when he ordered some tea, Anna made sure she was the one to take it to him.

Her throat dried like desert sand at the sudden opportunity, but it was now or never. She could feel herself shaking as she walked along the below-stairs corridor, darker than ever because of the slab-grey sky that had given nothing but rain all day. But she had to be strong. There was nothing else for it.

Gilbert glanced up, and Anna saw him lean back in the chair and stretch. He had evidently been smoking as he worked. Now he reached out to retrieve a recently lit cigarette that was smouldering in the ashtray and drew on it deeply. Then stretching his hand away, he nonchalantly blew a ribbon of grey smoke towards the ceiling and shot Anna a languid half smile, almost smirking as if … as if now he’d had what he wanted from her, she meant nothing more to him. The agony of her despair was at once swept aside. He had dishonoured and humiliated her. And now she was going to make him pay.

‘Gilbert, we have to talk,’ she said as she set down the tray. Her voice was controlled, perfectly polite but dry, and she marvelled at how calm she felt.

‘Oh, yes?’

He cocked a casual eyebrow at her, and she wanted to curl her lip. He wouldn’t be so smug when he heard what she had to say!

‘Gilbert, I’m pregnant.’

She watched him, waiting for his reaction. His face stilled, then the muscles around his mouth twitched and he suddenly leant forward to stub out his cigarette in the ashtray before lounging back in the chair.

‘So? What’s it got to do with me?’

His expression was superb, just like a little boy who had been caught red-handed and yet insisted on denying his offence. It made Anna want to laugh with withering contempt, but this was no laughing matter.

‘What’s it got to do with you?’ she repeated scathingly. ‘You’re the father, that’s what.’

He shrugged, spurring Anna’s disdain to a squall of rage, but she must remain in command.

‘How do I know that’s true?’ he scoffed, though she could hear the caution in his voice. ‘It could be anyone’s.’

‘So you admit you slept with me, even though you had no intention of marrying me? And who else am I supposed to have befriended living out here and working all hours? And I’m sure there’d be witnesses to our secret outings, the girl at the Two Bridges Hotel, for instance. But don’t worry. I’m not out to make trouble.’ She paused, noting the look of relief on his face. What a coward he was. It strengthened her resolve. ‘There won’t be any scandal. I’ll go away. But I’ll need an allowance.’

‘What?’

‘You don’t expect me to live on thin air, do you? Or your
child?’ she retorted. ‘Nothing extravagant. Just a moderate allowance so that I can live without worrying where the next meal will come from or how to pay the bills. And you can come and see the child whenever you want.’

She stopped then, studying his face. He seemed to be considering her request, even though his expression was somewhat guarded. Her heart took courage.

‘I’m sorry this has happened, Gilbert,’ she said, her tone softer this time. ‘But just set up the allowance and no one will ever know. I swear I’ll never tell a living soul who the father is. For Frankie’s sake. In the few weeks we’ve known each other, we’ve become good friends. She idolises you, and I wouldn’t want her to know what a lying cheat you really are.’

She couldn’t help the bitter scorn she had lent to her final words but she regretted them instantly. As Gilbert came round to her side of the desk, the eyes she remembered as light and teasing were now livid with anger. She gulped and stepped backwards, but she must stand her ground. She stared up at him, her jaw set.

‘Frankie must never,
ever
know!’ he growled at her. ‘Do you understand?’

She blinked at him, too frightened by his attitude to answer. He must have taken her silence as a refusal, as the next moment he grasped her about the throat. She drew in a squealing gasp, and the image of her parents grappling at the top of the stairs flashed across her mind.

‘Do you understand?’ he repeated, caution flung to the winds as, in his maddened rage, he raised his voice to a shout. ‘If Frankie ever finds out, I swear to God I’ll kill you! Got it?’

He shook her until her head spun, his fingers pressing deep into her neck. She tried to nod but it was impossible with his hand choking her. He released her with such a forceful jerk that she staggered backwards with a cry of fear, toppling over a chair that crashed noisily to the floor. She let out a short scream as she fell, landing awkwardly on her back over the piece of furniture. Then, as she began to pick herself up, she saw Gilbert’s eyes swivel fearfully towards the door. There were footsteps, and the next instant, the door opened and there was Lady Ashcroft, her face stretched in horror.

‘What on earth’s going on?’ she demanded.

Anna glanced from her mistress to Gilbert, who was standing there dithering and looking so miserable that Anna’s contempt spiralled. It was his own fault this had happened. If he had done as she had suggested, no one would have been any the wiser. But now …

Anna dragged herself from the floor. ‘He’s got me pregnant, that’s what,’ she spat accusingly. ‘Made me believe we’d be married.’

‘What?’

‘It’s a total lie, Mother,’ Gilbert babbled evasively.

‘No, it’s not, and you know it,’ Anna sneered back. ‘I’m so sorry, Lady Ashcroft. You’ve been good to me, but your son tricked me. I wanted to go away without anyone knowing. All I wanted was an allowance for the child, and then he attacked me.’

She stood, rubbing her throat and wondering what would happen next. Lady Ashcroft’s face was like stone, as if she was trying to absorb the shock of the scene before her, and it was Gilbert who spoke first. He gave a mocking snigger.

‘Can you believe it, Mother? The girl’s trying to get money
out of me. Blackmailing me for something I didn’t do.’

Anna caught her breath, feeling as if she had been hit by a sledgehammer. ‘But … but you didn’t deny it a few minutes ago,’ she stammered.

‘Oh, Mother, surely you won’t believe—?’

‘How dare you!’ Lady Ashcroft stepped forward as if she had suddenly come alive. But it wasn’t her son she was condemning. Anna shrank back. She had thought the woman might have accepted the truth. After all, she seemed to have guessed that there had been something between Anna and her son. But, oh, glory! How wrong Anna was.

‘How dare you accuse my son of such a despicable act.’

‘Oh, yes, it was despicable, all right! Leading me on—’

‘Don’t you
dare
speak to me like that. Gilbert would never do such a thing!’

Her words were like cruel barbs and she stood up to her full height. Like an indomitable battleship. And Gilbert came to stand at her shoulder. Smirking.

Anna gazed at their united front, and knew she was beaten. Her courage crumbled, but she must make one final attempt.

‘No matter how saintly you think Gilbert to be,’ she said steadily, ‘it really is true. You can believe it or not, but he seduced me, I assure you.’

Lady Ashcroft knotted her lips. ‘Get out of my house, you lying little minx. Pack your bags and leave. And don’t expect a reference. And if you ever try to extort money from us again, I’ll have the police onto you.’

‘And perhaps they’d discover the truth.’ Anna glowered back. There was nothing more she could do. She raised her chin in the air, her face a picture of composure. She must
remain dignified in this, the most dreadful moment of her life, as she made to walk calmly out of the room. But as she stepped around the impenetrable wall formed by Gilbert and his mother, she stopped dead. For Frankie was standing in the doorway, her face as white as a sheet. Dear Lord. Frankie had heard everything.

Anna’s heart sickened. ‘I’m so sorry, Frankie,’ she mumbled wretchedly. ‘It happened before I knew he was to marry you. Before I knew you existed. I loved him, and I believed he loved me. Honestly, I did.’

Frankie just stared at her, eyes huge in her pinched face, and automatically stood back to let Anna past. Anna raced up the stairs to her room, blinded by the tears that suddenly spilt down her cheeks. She grabbed all her possessions, stuffing them into her little suitcase, but with the extra garments Mrs Davenport had insisted she acquired, it wouldn’t shut. So she threw out all the new clothes even if they had cost her hardearned cash. At that moment, she really didn’t care about the money. And she wasn’t going to be needing the clothes again. What she’d need soon was a maternity smock.

She threw one last look about the heartless little room. They had hardly been happy times she had spent there, except when Gilbert … Oh, Mr Teddy! She had nearly left him behind, and now she squashed him into the case. Then she shrugged into her old gaberdine, took a deep breath, and gathering her pride about her, walked regally down the main staircase with her shoulders boldly braced.

They appeared to be waiting for her in the hall, as if they had expected her to make this last show of bravado. Well, she wouldn’t disappoint them. She marched up to Lady Ashcroft and dropped her case almost on the woman’s feet.

‘You owe me a week’s wages and a week in lieu of notice,’ she announced coldly.

She heard Gilbert snort and she shot him a despising glance, holding his gaze insolently until she heard Lady Ashcroft’s stiff voice behind her.

‘Pay her, Gilbert,’ she commanded, and Anna wondered if, after all, she knew of her son’s weakness but simply would not admit it.

‘Oh, er …’ But he obediently took out his wallet and withdrew a five-pound note.

‘Six,’ Anna said levelly. ‘It should be six.’

‘Oh.’

She waited while he drew out another note, and then snapped it out of his fingers. ‘Thank you. It’s precious little after what you’ve done, but it’ll have to do.’ And then she turned to Francesca who was still quavering by the study door. ‘I really am sorry, Frankie, that you had to find out what sort of man Gilbert really is. And I wish you luck.’

She let herself out of the front door, deliberately leaving it wide open. It was strange that no one tried to make her use the servants’ door, as if they all secretly acknowledged that she was indeed carrying the Ashcroft heir in her belly. She marched down the steps and out into the pouring rain.

‘Anna!’

She had vowed not to look back, but at Frankie’s desperate cry, she turned round. The other girl had run out after her, her pretty face creased with emotion.

‘Francesca, come back at once! Leave the little trollop to her own devices!’

It was Lady Ashcroft’s shouted command that halted her in her tracks. Well, it wouldn’t be Gilbert, would it,
Anna scoffed? Gutless creature. Poor Frankie. Her face was distraught as she hesitated, dancing on the spot and glancing back over her shoulder towards the house.

‘Take care, Anna!’ she called from where she stood.

‘And you! Good luck!’ And then she muttered under her breath, ‘I think you’re going to need it as much as me.’

She turned away and began to walk purposefully down the long driveway. The rain was falling vertically as it had all day, with no wind to clear away the heavy clouds that sat over the moor in an immense slate-coloured dome. Anna trudged along, water already dripping from her nose and chin. Dear God, she was angry. Seething. Her fury driving away her despair. If she was to survive – and survive she would if only to show Lady Ashcroft and her precious son – she would have to make plans.

What were her options? Right now, she had little choice but to go to Ethel and call upon her family’s generosity yet again. Would they turn her away when they knew the truth? But she needn’t tell them. Not until she had sorted out her future. Hers and the child’s. Somehow, she would find a way to support them both. She had no idea how, but the first step was to go back to Number Sixteen. To the untidy, disordered house with its world of welcome and Mabel’s dreadful cooking. Anna’s dishonesty would cut into her conscience, but needs must when the devil drives.

Her shoulders ached from carrying the case, and she dragged herself up the steep hill on the far side of the Two Bridges Hotel. The sheeting rain had cut visibility to a couple of hundred yards, blotting out the view over the glittering thread of the West Dart. Only a handful of vehicles passed by on the road, their sidelights dull pinpricks in the gloom,
and Anna jumped back to avoid the inevitable spray. Water was streaming down the road, the tarmac awash, and she bitterly regretted not thinking to collect her wellingtons from the servants’ rear hallway. The rain had soaked right through her strong, serviceable shoes, and her feet were cold and squelching inside her sodden stockings. She was beginning to feel so dispirited, and only the thought of seeing Ethel before the day was out kept her going.