A Woman of Substance (35 page)

The kitchen of the Harte cottage was deserted when Emma entered and closed the door softly behind her. It was gloomy in the late-afternoon light, and desolate. The fire had burned out and the grate was filled with cold ashes and there was a smell in the air of cabbage and fried onions and burnt pots. Me dad spoilt the Sunday dinner again, Emma thought absently, as she took off her coat and scarf and looked around. The cottage was ominously silent and Emma shivered as she crept up the stone steps to her mother’s room, her heart beating rapidly as her alarm increased.

Her father was alone, bending over Elizabeth. He was gently wiping her sweating face with a flannel and he stroked her damp and tangled hair lovingly. He looked up as Emma tiptoed in. His eyes were dark and brooding and filled with sorrow, and his face was harshly set and the colour of dull lead in the twilight.

‘Me mam—what happened?’ Emma whispered hoarsely.

Jack shook his head wearily. ‘Dr Mac says it’s a relapse. She’s been growing weaker and weaker these last few days. She’s no fight left in her,’ he mumbled in a strangled voice. ‘Doctor just left. No hope—’ His voice cracked and he looked away swiftly, biting down his grief, swallowing hard on the incipient tears aching in his throat.

‘Don’t say that, Dad,’ Emma cried softly but with great vehemence. She glanced around. ‘Where’s our Winston?’

‘I sent him ter get Aunt Lily.’ Elizabeth stirred restlessly. Jack turned back to her quickly and sponged her face again, and with tenderness. ‘Thee can come over ter the bed, Emma. But don’t make a noise. Thee mam must rest quiet like,’ Jack said, his voice low and sorrowing. He stepped back, so Emma could sit on the small stool, and he touched her shoulder gently. ‘Thee mam’s been asking for thee,’ he murmured.

Emma took hold of her mother’s wasted hand. It was icy and
lifeless. Elizabeth opened her eyes slowly, as if the effort to lift her lids was almost too enormous. She stared blankly at Emma. ‘Mam, it’s me,’ Emma said quietly, tears brimming into her eyes. Her mother’s face was utterly without colour and there was a peculiar sheen to it. Faint purple smudges stained the skin around her eyes, and her delicate lips were as white as the bedsheet. She continued to look at Emma dazedly. Emma clutched her mother’s hand more tightly and fear rose in her like a fierce wave. She said again, and more insistently, ‘Mam! Mam! It’s me, Emma.’

Elizabeth smiled faintly and recognition illuminated her eyes, which suddenly lost their cloudiness and became more comprehending. ‘Emma luv,’ she said weakly. She attempted to touch her daughter’s face, but she was too exhausted and her hand dropped limply on to the bed. ‘I waited for yer ter come, Emma.’ Her voice was a fluttering whisper. Her breath came in small, rapid pants, and she shivered under the blankets.

‘Mam! Mam! Yer’ll be all right, won’t yer?’ Emma said, her voice urgent with apprehension. ‘Yer’ll get better, won’t yer, Mam?’

‘I am better, luv,’ Elizabeth said. A gentle smile played around her lips. She sighed deeply. ‘Yer a good lass, Emma.’ She paused and her breathing became belaboured. ‘Promise me yer’ll look after Winston and Frank. And yer dad.’ Her voice was now so faint it was hardly audible.

‘Don’t talk like that, Mam,’ cried Emma, her voice quavering.

‘Promise me!’ Elizabeth’s eyes stretched wide with mute appeal.

‘Yes, I promise, Mam,’ Emma said chokingly. The tears rolled down her cheeks silently. She leaned forward and touched her mother’s dwindled face and kissed her lips, and laid her face next to her mother’s. ‘Fetch yer dad,’ cried Elizabeth, with a little panting gasp, and the last of her rapidly diminishing strength.

Emma turned and motioned to her father, who was standing by the window. He strode over to the bed and sat down, and took Elizabeth in his arms and held her to him desperately. He felt as if a scythe was ripping at his insides, tearing out his
heart. He did not know how he could endure the pain, the agony of her dying. She lay back on the pillows. Her face was waxy and turning grey. She opened her eyes and he saw they were filled with a new and radiant light. She tried to clutch his arm, but she was far too weak and her hand fell away, trembling. He bent towards her. She whispered to him and he nodded, unable to speak in his searing grief.

Jack pulled back the bedclothes and lifted Elizabeth in his strong arms, carrying her carefully to the window. She was so light, as light as a fallen leaf, and she barely stirred in his arms. The window was open and the curtains billowed out in the evening breeze, and her dark hair was blown around her face. He looked down at her. She had the most rapturous expression on her face and her eyes were shining. She breathed deeply of the fresh air, and he felt her whole body stretch tautly in his arms as she lifted her head and looked out longingly towards the moors.

‘The Top of the World,’ she said, and her voice was so clear and so strong and so young at that moment, he was momentarily startled. It echoed around the room with a vibrancy that was almost abnormal. She fell back in his arms. A tender smile flickered briefly on her lips. She sighed several times, long deep sighs that rippled through her whole body. And then she was still.

‘Elizabeth!’ Jack cried, his voice raw with emotion, and he cradled her body in his arms, rocking her to him, and his tears drenched her face.

‘Me mam!’ Emma screamed, and flew across the room. Jack turned and looked at Emma blindly, tears coursing down his cheeks. He shook his head. ‘She’s gone, lass,’ he said, and he carried Elizabeth back to the bed and covered her body with the bedclothes. He crossed her hands on her breasts and smoothed her hair away from her face, so tranquil in death, and touched her eyelids. He bent down and kissed her icy lips, and his own shook with his pain and despair.

Emma was sobbing by his side. ‘Dad, oh, Dad,’ she cried, clinging to him. He straightened up and looked down into her streaming face. Then he put his arms around her and pulled her to him comfortingly. ‘She’s free now, Emma. Free at last
of the terrible suffering.’ He choked back his own sobs and held Emma closer to him. He stroked her hair and consoled her, and they were locked together for a long time in their mutual anguish.

At last Jack said, ‘It’s God’s will,’ and he sighed.

Emma moved away from him and lifted her tear-stained face. ‘God’s will!’ she repeated slowly, and her young voice was excessively harsh and unremitting. ‘There’s no such thing as God!’ she cried, her eyes blazing. ‘I knows that now. Because if there was a God, He wouldn’t have let me mam suffer all these years, and He wouldn’t have let her die!’

Jack stared at her aghast and before he could respond she was running out of the bedroom. He heard her feet hammering on the stairs and the front door banging behind her. He turned wearily, his great body sagging, and he looked down at his dead wife and a sob rose in him again, and he was engulfed by a terrible darkness. He stumbled like a sleepwalker to the window and looked out. Dimly, through his pain, he saw Emma running up Top Fold towards the moors. The sky was saffron bleeding into scarlet as the sun fluttered down below the bleak hills. Its last shimmering rays were streaking across Ramsden Crags, just visible in the gloaming.

‘If Elizabeth is anywhere, that’s where she is now,’ he said. ‘At the Top of the World.’

When Adam Fairley returned from Worksop, early on Sunday evening, he found Olivia sitting alone in the library. He hurried over to her, smiling with delight, his eyes lighting up with love. He was still overwhelmed by the emotions of the night before, and this showed in his glowing face, which had lost its ascetic gauntness, in the buoyancy of his step, in the joyfulness of his whole demeanour.

But when Olivia looked up at him, he drew in his breath sharply and stared at her, his intelligent eyes sweeping over her face swiftly. She was excessively pale and she seemed burdened by a certain weariness, and he saw at once, and to his enormous dismay, that she was greatly disturbed.

Adam took hold of her hands and pulled her up from the Chesterfield, without speaking. He kissed her cheek and took her into his arms, embracing her warmly. She clung to him and buried her head on his shoulder, and he felt her body trembling against his own. After a few seconds she drew away gently, and looked up at him. Her gaze was penetrating, and in her lovely aquamarine eyes Adam detected confusion and misery.

‘What is it, Olivia?’ he asked softly. ‘You are troubled and that sorely grieves me.’

Olivia shook her head and sat down. Her face was etched with sadness and her shoulders drooped dejectedly. She folded her hands in her lap, staring at them studiously, and still she did not speak. Adam joined her on the sofa and picked up one of her hands. He held it tightly in both of his own, pressing it lovingly.

‘Come, come, my dear, this won’t do,’ he exclaimed in a falsely cheerful voice. ‘Did something happen to upset you?’ Adam knew, as he spoke, that this was the most ridiculous question. She was obviously disturbed about the development in their relationship, and this both alarmed and frightened him.

Olivia cleared her throat and finally lifted her head slowly. Her eyes shone with tears. ‘I think I must leave here, Adam. At once. Tomorrow, in fact.’

Adam’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach and he was filled with dread. ‘But why?’ he cried, leaning closer. He tightened his grip on her hand.

‘You
know
why, Adam. I cannot remain here after—after last night. I am in an untenable position.’

‘But you said you loved me,’ he protested.

Olivia smiled faintly. ‘I do love you. I’ve loved you for years. And I will always love you. But I cannot stay here, Adam, in the same house as my sister, your wife, and conduct
a clandestine love affair. I cannot!’

‘Olivia, Olivia, let us not be hasty. Surely, if we are discreet—’

‘It’s not only that,’ she interrupted quickly. ‘What we did last night was wrong. We committed a terrible sin.’

Adam said, almost roughly, ‘Because I committed adultery. Is that what you’re saying, Olivia? It was not you, but I, who committed a sin, in the eyes of the law. That is a matter for my conscience, not yours. So let me worry about that.’

‘We both committed a sin—in the eyes of God,’ she answered very softly.

Observing the grave look on her face, he knew, with an awful sense of foreboding, that she was in deadly earnest. He did not want her conscience to drive her away from him. He could not let her go. Not now. Not ever again. Not when they had found each other at last, after all the years of loneliness and unhappiness they had both endured, trapped in their worthless marriages.

Adam spoke urgently. ‘Olivia, I understand the way you feel. Believe me, I do. You are a good and honest person. Duplicity and intrigue are not in your nature. I know, too, that you have a strong sense of personal honour. As I do myself. I fought my emotions, my desire for you, very hard last night.’

He paused and gazed deeply into her eyes. He touched her face tenderly. ‘I suppose it
was
wrong, in a way. But we didn’t hurt anyone, least of all Adele. And I certainly don’t feel any remorse or guilt. You shouldn’t either. That would be pointless, for we cannot undo what we did, nor can we alter the fact that we love each other. And I do love you. More than I have ever loved any other woman.’

‘I know,’ she murmured sadly. ‘Nevertheless, we cannot think of ourselves, selfishly. We must put duty first.’ Her eyes filled with tears she had been trying to withhold, and her face overflowed with her love for him. ‘I know it is not in you to behave shoddily, Adam.’

‘Everything you say is true, of course. But I cannct live the rest of my life without you, my love.’ He shook his head. ‘I cannot!’ His luminous eyes implored her. ‘Please stay with
me, at least until July, as you planned, and as you promised last night. For my part, I promise, I will never intrude on you, or force myself upon you.’ Adam took her hands in his again. ‘Such a thing would be irremissible, in view of the circumstances and your feelings about Adele, and your position in this house. But please, Olivia, stay with me for a few months,’ he beseeched her, his voice low and hoarse with his desperation. ‘I
swear
I will not attempt to make love to you. Please, please don’t abandon me to life in this mausoleum. To life alone in this loveless house.’

Olivia’s heart went out to him. She did love him, so very much, and life had dealt him a cruel blow, saddling him with her sick and disturbed sister. He who was so vital, so full of life, and so fine and good. As she studied that strained and suffering face before her, Olivia felt her resolution wavering, her determination to leave Yorkshire dissolving. Slowly she began to weaken, for she found it hard to deny him. And what he asked was really not all that unreasonable. ‘All right, I will stay,’ she said at last, in the gentlest of voices. ‘But it must be on the conditions you have just mentioned.’ She moved closer to him on the sofa, took his agonized face in her hands, and kissed his cheek. ‘It’s not that I don’t desire you, my darling. Because I do,’ she murmured. ‘However, we cannot be lovers in this house.’

Adam exhaled a long and deep sigh. ‘Thank God!’ he exclaimed. That deadening coldness that had afflicted his body gradually seeped out of him, and his sense of relief was so enormous it was almost euphoric. Now he took her in his arms and pressed her head against his shoulder, stroking her hair. ‘I need you so very much, my love. Your presence is as vital to me as breathing. But I swear I will not lay a finger on you, or compromise you in any way. I am happy just to be with you, to have your companionship, to know you love me. You feel the same way, don’t you?’

‘Yes, I do,’ Olivia responded. ‘We must be discreet, though, and not display our affection for each other so readily, or so openly.’ She looked into his face, so close to hers, and smiled for the first time. ‘Like this. It would be most embarrassing if Gerald, or one of the servants, walked in now.’ As she
finished speaking she extracted herself from his embrace.

‘Quite right,’ Adam remarked with a small dry laugh. He was ready to acquiesce to anything she wanted, if it meant keeping her by his side. ‘Well, my love, if we are going to be circumspect, perhaps we had better have a sherry, and sit on opposite sides of the room, and chat about inconsequential things.’ He made his voice light and he was able, at last, to laugh. ‘Would you like a drink before dinner, my sweet?’

‘Yes, that would be lovely, Adam. And most natural-looking wouldn’t you say, should we be surprised by any member of the household.’ Her eyes were suddenly merry and she found herself laughing with him.

Adam grinned at her and stood up. Her eyes followed him across the room. She felt an unexpected ache in the region of her heart, and she wondered if they would have the strength to control their emotions, to deny each other.
We must
, she said firmly to herself.

Adam returned with the sherries. He handed her one, clinking her glass. ‘Cheers, my dear.’ He smiled wryly and, very pointedly, sat in the chair opposite. ‘Is this a discreet enough distance?’ he asked, his eyes twinkling.

‘I should say so,’ she said, laughing again. She sat back on the Chesterfield and relaxed, her usual equanimity fully restored. She trusted Adam implicitly. He would keep his word, and his distance, and that in itself would give her the necessary strength to do the same thing.

‘There is just one thing more,’ Adam began cautiously. ‘You said we could not be lovers in this house. However, if I saw you in London, might it—could it be—different? We would be free there,’ he asserted.

Olivia’s pretty mouth curved into a small smile. ‘Oh, Adam, darling, you are impossible,’ she said, shaking her head. Then her eyes became quiet and grave. ‘I don’t know how to answer that. We would still be committing a sin, wouldn’t we?’ She blushed and dropped her eyes. ‘I don’t know what to say. I must think.’

‘Please, don’t get upset again, my love,’ Adam cried, conscious of her discomfiture. ‘We will not discuss that side of our relationship again. Not until you wish to discuss it. Could I
ask one favour of you, though?’

‘Of course, Adam,’ said Olivia.

‘When I am in town, you will dine with me, won’t you? And accompany me to the theatre? You will
see
me, won’t you?’ he asked, his desperation again apparent in his voice.

‘You know very well I will. We have always spent time together when you have been in London. Why should it change now, Adam? We have even more reasons to see each other—socially,’ she declared in a positive voice that was also calm.

This reassured him. ‘Good. Then it’s all settled.’ Adam stood up and threw a log on to the fire, pushing back the memory of their mutual passion of the night before.

‘Was Edwin glad to be back at school?’ Olivia asked.

Adam was lighting a cigarette. He drew on it and said, ‘Yes, he was delighted to be back. Poor Edwin has been quite frustrated, cooped up with Adele all these months.’ He sighed. ‘She does coddle him so.’ Adam rested an arm on the mantelshelf and lifted one of his highly polished brown boots on to the hearth. He threw Olivia a swift glance, and, leaning closer to her, went on, in a lower voice, ‘I do hope you are aware that Adele and I have not lived together as man and wife for over ten years.’

‘Yes, I had assumed that,’ said Olivia. She stood up and went to him. She kissed his face and stroked his hair. ‘Everything will be all right. I know it will. Now, let me get you another sherry.’

She took the glass from him, and he smiled at her, thankful she was with him, and that now she intended to stay at Fairley through the summer. He watched her gliding across the floor of the library, graceful and elegant and self-assured, and he realized, with a sudden flash of perception, that without her his life would sink into darkness again. She
was
his life, and he resolved never to be apart from her ever again, as long as he lived.