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Authors: Roberta Grieve

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BOOK: Love or Duty
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The next few days were a bustle of preparations for the departure of the cast of
Little Women
but the girls found time to return to Holton for a brief visit. Dora had completely changed her tune and insisted on Sarah
accompanying 
her to church so that she could show off her talented daughter. Sarah basked in the adulation and Louise looked on with amusement. She would never fathom her stepmother out.

Stanley was proud of his daughter too and, as they walked home from church along the promenade, he confided in Louise that he’d always known she would ‘go places’.

‘But what about you, my dear? Do you wish you were going with her? It’s not too late to change your mind,’ he said.

‘Sarah doesn’t really need me any more and I have my own life to live.’

‘What will you do with yourself now? I know Dora thinks you’ve no need to work but you’re not one to remain idle. Would you like to carry on working in the theatre?’

‘I was offered a job but I turned it down. I’d like to stay home for a while, perhaps help you in the office, or help Mother with her church work.’

‘You mustn’t spend your life looking after us, you know. Besides, you’ll meet a nice young man, get married….’

Louise smiled. ‘Maybe, one day.’ How could she tell him that the only young man she was interested in hardly knew she existed? Thoughts of Andrew fled as she realized that even this short stroll along the seafront had brought a blue tinge to her father’s lips.

Sarah and her mother had reached home and were waiting impatiently for them to catch up. Indoors, Louise took her father’s coat and urged him to sit down while she fetched a glass of water and the phial of pills.

Dora had already gone into the dining room where Polly was waiting to serve their lunch. She called out impatiently and Louise was about to say that Stanley was unwell when he laid a hand on her arm. ‘It’s all right, my dear. I feel better now. Don’t let’s worry your mother.’

Sarah, still bursting with excitement, didn’t seem to notice anything amiss and Louise saw no point in worrying her either. The
Queen Mary
was due in at Southampton in a few days and would set sail for New York on 1 September. Sarah and the cast of
Little Women
would be on board.

As they sat down to eat Louise decided not to go back to London. Sarah could do her own packing and travel down to Southampton with her friends. She and her parents would meet her there to see her off.

With Sarah’s departure, the house seemed very quiet. Stanley insisted on going to the office and Dora busied herself with her church activities.

Louise, at a loose end, decided to walk along the seafront and then call in at her father’s office. It was fine breezy day and she strode along
confidently
, enjoying the fresh sea air after the smoke and grime of London. Despite the sandbags piled along the sea wall, it was too nice a day to think about the possibility of war. She concentrated on the sparkle of sun on the waves, the fishing boats bobbing at anchor and the children at play on the sands – until she reached the sand dunes at the end of the promenade and heard shouts. She gasped, her hand at her throat as a group of men in khaki swarmed over the dunes, rifles at the ready. One of the soldiers grinned at her. ‘Don’t worry, miss, just practising.’

Her heartbeat returned to normal and she turned away, walking back towards the town. It was real then – the war was really going to happen.

 

Louise got up on that bright September morning with mixed feelings. Sarah was setting sail for her new life in New York. Although she was excited and pleased for her, she knew her going would leave a huge gap in her own life. She would miss her sister, despite the tears and tantrums.

She went downstairs warily, expecting Dora to be in floods of tears. But she seemed more excited at the prospect of meeting Lucia Lane on board the
Queen Mary
, than by the thought of not seeing her daughter for months or possibly years.

Stanley was already at the breakfast table listening to the wireless. He looked up when Louise came in and she was pleased to see that he looked a lot better.

‘They’re evacuating the children from the big cities today. I’ve just heard that a large group is being sent here.’

Louise gasped. ‘So it’s really happening.’

‘I’m afraid so.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll go and get the car out.’

‘I thought we were going by train.’

‘Impossible, today of all days. The trains will be crowded with children. And they’re recalling the reservists so there’ll be soldiers and sailors as well. It’ll be chaos. Best to take the car.’

Louise was unhappy about her father driving and wished she’d taken the opportunity to learn. However, she didn’t want to worry him by expressing her concern.

She sat at the table and started on her breakfast. ‘Mother’s so excited about seeing Miss Lane,’ she said.

‘Anything to take her mind off saying goodbye to Sarah. I don’t think it’s fully sunk in yet that we may not see her for a very long time.’ He patted Louise’s shoulder and left the room.

When Dora came in, her face was flushed with excitement. ‘I don’t think I can eat a thing,’ she said, sitting opposite Louise and proceeding to butter several slices of toast.

Louise smiled. How much easier her stepmother would be to live with if she were always like this. But inevitably, once the ship sailed, her mood would change and she would sink into self pity, wondering how her daughter could leave her, or she would start to blame Stanley and Louise for encouraging her.

 

On the way to Southampton, the signs of impending war were everywhere – in the towns, sandbags piled against public buildings; in the villages, groups of lost looking children with gas masks round their necks and labels tied to their coats; and as they drove past Portsmouth, the mass of
battleship
grey vessels moored in the Solent.

Louise had a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach and she glanced at her father. He gripped the wheel silently, staring at the road ahead. Beside him, Dora didn’t seem to feel the tension, chattering brightly as if on a day out.

Her excitement lasted until the last goodbyes were said and the visitors were ushered off the great ocean liner. As they stood on the quayside waving it finally sank in that Sarah was really going. A tear slid down her cheek and she clutched Stanley’s hand. ‘Our little girl,’ she sobbed. ‘What will become of her?’

Stanley patted her shoulder and raised his eyebrows at Louise. ‘Nothing’s going to happen to her. She’s going to have a wonderful time. And she’ll be safer away from here.’

Dora wouldn’t be comforted and she continued to snuffle into her hankie as they returned to the car. Stanley tried to reassure her but Louise lost patience and got into the back seat, ignoring her stepmother and staring out of the car window. She began to wonder how the coming war would affect the people of Holton Regis. She didn’t really remember much of the last war but surely that had all taken place across the Channel. Did the authorities really fear mass bombing or an invasion? She thought of the groups of frightened children they’d passed, torn from their homes and families. Perhaps she could do something to help, possibly join one of her mother’s church groups. They were sure to get involved in some sort of war work.

They were almost home when the car came to an abrupt halt. Louise leaned forward, wondering why they’d stopped. Her father was hunched over the steering wheel, while her stepmother gave frantic little cries. ‘Stanley, what is it? Speak to me.’

Louise jumped out, pulled open the driver’s door and leaned in. She grasped Stanley’s shoulder, easing him gently back against the seat. His face was grey and his breathing erratic. He clasped his chest and his face contorted with pain.

‘Father, please, don’t die,’ she whispered, wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead with her handkerchief. ‘Where are your pills?’

‘Top pocket,’ he gasped.

She tipped one out and placed it under his tongue, holding his hand and murmuring words of comfort. Beside him, Dora was still weeping but Louise ignored her.

After a few moments the colour began to return to Stanley’s cheeks and he turned his head, attempting a smile. ‘Just give me a minute – I’ll be all right.’

‘You can’t drive like this. I’ll go and get help,’ Louise said.

‘Don’t worry about me,’ Stanley said. He gasped and clutched his chest. ‘Promise me, you’ll look after your mother.’ Sweat beaded his brow and he tried to speak again.

‘Ssh, save your strength,’ Louise whispered. She turned to Dora. ‘Take care of him. I won’t be long.’

Dora looked up, crumpling her hankie in her hand. ‘Don’t leave me. I don’t know what to do.’

‘I must get help.’ Without waiting for a reply, Louise ran to the end of the road. It wasn’t far to Dr Tate’s house. She just prayed he would be at home.

He came to the door still chewing and she apologized for interrupting his meal, gasping out what had happened. He grabbed his hat and bag and called out to someone that he would try not to be too long. His car was parked outside the house and Louise climbed in, giving directions to where she’d left her father.

The doctor stopped behind Stanley’s car and, as they got out, Dora came towards them.

‘Hurry, please,’ she said.

Louise leaned into the car and took her father’s hand. His breathing was more ragged than before and he gasped as he tried to get words out. ‘Promise me, Lou – promise.’ He gripped her hand with surprising strength. ‘You will look after Dora, won’t you? She’s not strong.’

‘I promise,’ Louise sobbed, as tears rolled down her face. ‘Just till you’re better….’

Dr Tate put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Let me …’ he said, moving her gently aside. He loosened Stanley’s shirt and placed the stethoscope on his chest.

After a few moments he looked up and shook his head. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said.

Dora began to sob, her wails reaching a crescendo as Louise put her arms round her and tried to comfort her. But who will comfort me, she wondered?

Chapter Eleven
 
 

T
he announcement that the country was now officially at war with Germany came two days after Stanley’s death but it made little impact on the Charlton household.

Louise, numbed by grief, hadn’t been able to cry for her father, going through the myriad things that had to be arranged in a state of shock.

George Tate had been a tower of strength, contacting the undertakers on her behalf and helping her with the wording of the telegram to Sarah on board the
Queen Mary
, although so far there’d been no reply.

Dora’s friends from church had gathered round and there were constant comings and goings at Steyne House. Louise was glad of the distraction, not only for herself but for Polly, who seemed much calmer when she was kept busy making tea and refreshments for the visitors.

As expected, St Mark’s was packed for the funeral. Stanley had been much loved and respected in the small town. His closest friends, fellow church wardens and business associates had been invited back to the house where Louise and Polly had prepared a buffet of sandwiches and cakes before leaving for the church.

After speaking to as many of their guests as possible, Louise was tired and irritable. If only they’d all just go, she thought, leaning against the newel post at the foot of the stairs. From the packed drawing room came the buzz of conversation punctuated by an occasional laugh. The laughter jarred and she wanted to shout at them to stop.

She should rejoin their guests but she couldn’t face anyone at that moment. Taking a deep breath she decided to give Polly a hand in the kitchen. As she started down the passage, a voice spoke in her ear. ‘Are you feeling all right, Miss Charlton? These occasions can be very draining, as I know too well.’

‘Oh, James. You startled me.’ She put a hand to her face. ‘I’m perfectly all right. I just needed a moment to myself that’s all.’ She tried to walk away but James Spencer laid a hand on her arm.

‘I know how you feel.’ He sighed and his mouth turned down at the corners. ‘It was the same when I lost my father. I just kept expecting him to walk in the room any moment.’

Louise understood and she nodded. ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do now. There’s so much to think about – my stepmother, the business….’

He took her hand and spoke softly. ‘Don’t worry about all that now. The business can get along by itself for a while. And remember, if there’s anything you need, I’m there. You only have to telephone or call in at the office.’

Louise tried not to show her surprise. She hadn’t thought James Spencer so sensitive. She remembered her father’s earlier misgivings about him taking William’s place in the firm. Perhaps she’d misjudged him. He was still holding on to her hand and, as she tried to pull away, he gripped it more firmly. ‘Don’t forget – any time,’ he said.

She forced a smile and said, ‘Thank you, James, that’s very sweet of you. Now, I must go and see about that tea.’

After she’d spoken to Polly, she returned to the hall where several guests were getting ready to leave. She steeled herself to smile and thank them for coming and was about to close the front door when the doctor came out of the drawing room. ‘I must go too, my dear. Patients to see,’ he said, as she handed him his hat. He turned to someone behind him. ‘You remember my nephew, Andrew, don’t you?’

Louise felt the colour rise in her cheeks. ‘Of course I do. Thank you for coming, Doctor.’ She hadn’t noticed him at the funeral. But then, she’d been too wrapped in grief to really take note of who was there.

‘It was good of you to come,’ she said. ‘I didn’t know you were in Holton.’

‘I’ve been here a week and I should have called before,’ he said. ‘But I’ve been busy organizing things for these poor children from London.’

Louise knew that hundreds of evacuated children had descended on Holton in the past week but she couldn’t imagine what it had to do with Andrew.

Dr Tate beamed. ‘My nephew has arranged for the patients from his clinic to come to Holton. He’s persuaded the authorities to take over the old dance hall as a hospital.’

The remains of the former Winter Gardens theatre and dance hall had remained empty since the fire but Louise remembered her father mentioning the scheme at dinner the night before they’d gone down to Southampton. She’d thought then that it was hardly a fit place to house sick children.

Andrew seemed to read her thoughts. ‘It’s not ideal but they’ll be safe from the bombing. The dance hall was hardly damaged in the fire and I’ve had an army of volunteers scrubbing and cleaning. We’ve also had some of the equipment brought down from London.’

‘Does that mean you’ll be staying in Holton?’ Louise asked.

Andrew shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not – much as I’d like to. I have other patients who can’t be moved. And if there is any bombing I’ll be needed there.’

Louise swallowed her disappointment and managed a smile. ‘I expect you’ll need volunteers. I’d be happy to help.’

‘Thank you. But I’m sure you have plenty to occupy you at present. Maybe later you can have a word with my uncle. He’s going to oversee the project for the time being.’ He shook her hand and followed his uncle out to the car.

When they’d gone Louise took a few moments to compose herself. She wasn’t sure how she felt. Delight at seeing Andrew once more warred with the feeling that she was wasting her time mooning over him. What was it about this man who popped in and out of her life so fleetingly? And why did he continue to haunt her thoughts, especially as he always seemed so anxious to return to London after speaking with her? Once more, Louise wished she was more like her half-sister and could laugh and flirt and pretend she didn’t care.

Reluctantly, she returned to the drawing room where the solicitor was waiting to read her father’s will and Dora was still playing the grieving widow.

Her stepmother looked up as she entered the room. ‘Oh there you are,’ she said. ‘I was just saying to Mrs Howard that I don’t know what I’d do without you.’ She raised her handkerchief and sniffed delicately. ‘Now that my dear Stanley’s gone and Sarah is so far away….’ She allowed a tear to roll down her cheek and Mrs Howard patted her hand.

‘You are so fortunate in having a devoted daughter to care for you,’ Dora’s friend said.

‘Stepdaughter,’ Dora muttered and Louise’s cheeks began to burn.

When the church ladies had left, Louise sat beside Dora to hear what David Webster, the solicitor, had to say. But the legal words washed over her and her thoughts kept straying back to Andrew Tate and the turmoil of emotions he always aroused in her.

After the solicitor had gone, she began helping Polly to clear away the used cups and plates. As far as she could tell from the little she’d absorbed of the will, Dora had been well provided for and James would run the
business
. If she’d been a son she might have been given a share. She tried not to feel bitter as a vision of the future rose in front of her and she wondered if it was too late to take up Phil’s offer of a job at the theatre. After all, with Father and Sarah gone, there was nothing to keep her here. But then she remembered her promise to her father – a promise she felt duty-bound to keep.

 

The last cup had been washed and put away, the remains of the food disposed of and Polly sent up to bed. Louise, exhausted emotionally and physically, was ready for her own bed but she decided to look in on her stepmother. Dora had retired to her room as soon as everyone had gone, demanding her smelling salts, her pills and cocoa and biscuits.

Hoping she was already asleep, Louise opened the door quietly. Dora sat up and beckoned her inside. ‘Sit down, dear. We need to have a little chat.’

Louise sighed inwardly. ‘Can’t it wait till morning?’ She was already beginning to wish she hadn’t made that promise.

‘I just wanted to thank you for all you’ve done these past few days, dear. I don’t know how I would have got through it without you.’ She held out a hand and patted the bed beside her.

It was so unlike Dora to give praise that Louise gave an involuntary smile and sat down, taking her stepmother’s hand. ‘I only did what any daughter would do,’ she said, pushing aside the memory of that barbed reminder that she was only a stepdaughter. Besides, she’d done it for her father, not Dora.

‘Nevertheless, dear, I’m grateful.’ The older woman leaned back against the pillows and closed her eyes, a little sigh escaping her lips. ‘I suppose you’ll be going back to London now,’ she said. ‘Sarah told me you’d been offered a permanent job at the theatre.’ She sighed again. ‘I’ll be all alone then – Sarah off to America, you in London…. Well, you young people have your own lives to live I suppose.’

Guilt smote Louise and for the first time she noticed the threads of grey in the blonde hair, the lines around her mouth, the veins standing out on her hands. Dora had always seemed young for her age, and had worked hard at keeping the years at bay. Now, faced with the threat of a lonely future, she seemed to have aged overnight. I’m not the only one grieving, Louise realized.

She patted Dora’s hand. ‘I’ll stay as long as you need me,’ she said. ‘Go to sleep now; we’ll talk in the morning.’

As she went along the passage to her room, Louise wondered what she’d let herself in for. She undressed and got into bed, firmly telling herself that the theatre job had probably already gone to someone else. Besides, if she stayed in Holton, there’d be plenty to keep her busy now that the country was at war. She would volunteer to help at the children’s hospital she decided, thrusting aside the thought that it might be an opportunity to see more of Andrew Tate. He was sure to come down from London now and then to oversee his project.

But, as she fell asleep, it was James Spencer who crept into her thoughts. Why had he been so nice to her? Had he really changed that much?

 

When Andrew had said goodbye to his uncle, who was anxious to get back for evening surgery, he’d walked slowly down towards the seafront. He knew he ought to get back to the hospital but he needed time to think.

He walked along the esplanade, remembering earlier visits to Holton – in particular that windy day when he’d bumped into the Charlton sisters. Most men would have gone for the lively, pretty Sarah, but from the moment he’d first seen her it was Louise who had captured his heart. He’d been so relieved when he heard that she had turned down the chance to go to Africa. Now, it seemed someone else was courting her and he cursed his reserve and the fear of rejection that had stopped him making his feelings known. He’d been determined to speak to her the next time he came to Holton but her father’s funeral was hardly the place to suggest a date.

Supervising the removal of the children from the East End clinic had been his first visit to Holton in over a year. He’d read in the newspaper that Sarah had sailed on the
Queen Mary
the day before and when his uncle greeted him with the news of Stanley Charlton’s death, his first thought had been one of sadness that someone he liked and respected had died with his daughters both out of reach. But Uncle George had said Louise was with him when he was taken ill.

‘You told me she was working in the theatre,’ Andrew had said,
remembering
how he’d felt when he’d heard. If only he’d known when he’d gone to the show a few weeks ago. Now Uncle George was telling him she was back in Holton.

‘She’ll be going back to London after the funeral I suppose?’ he asked.

‘Dora Charlton wants her to stay here. Now she hasn’t got Stanley to run around after her….’

‘I hope she doesn’t let herself be talked into staying.’

George Tate’s next words hit him like a physical blow. ‘She only went to London to be near her sister. I think she might stay – at least I’m sure young James Spencer is hoping she will.’

‘How does she feel about that?’

‘How would I know?’ George asked with a grin. ‘You’d better ask her yourself.’

But Andrew hadn’t been able to overcome his natural reserve and had put off calling at Steyne House. His uncle had gone on to say that Dora would be pleased if a match between James and Louise meant keeping Charlton and Spencer in the family.

He hadn’t seen Louise until today. Now, as he went down the steps onto the beach, he re-played in his mind the scene he’d witnessed in the hall at Steyne House. James and Louise had seemed more than friendly.

He picked up a pebble, throwing it violently into the heaving surf. Another followed it with equal force. With an angry exclamation, he kicked at a tangle of seaweed and a short laugh escaped his lips. How was it that where his work was concerned he exuded confidence, but when it came to falling in love…?

 

When Louise woke early the next morning she regretted her hasty promise to stay in Holton. She and her stepmother had never really got on and, without her father there to keep the peace, she knew she’d find it hard to bite her tongue. But Father had made her promise to take care of Dora and she couldn’t go back on her word.

Besides, she’d turned down the theatre job and given up the lodgings she’d shared with Sarah. And could she really abandon Dora so soon after her loss? Despite her selfishness, she’d been really fond of Stanley as well as depending on him for everything. She wasn’t the sort of woman who would manage on her own.

With a sigh, Louise got dressed and went downstairs to find that Polly had already prepared Dora’s breakfast tray. ‘I’ll take it up,’ she offered. Poor Polly had enough to do. Louise hadn’t realized quite how hard the girl worked and she wondered if perhaps she should engage someone to help her.

Upstairs, Dora was sitting up in bed, her face gleaming with cold cream, a lacy bed jacket round her shoulders. Louise set the tray down and drew the curtains, letting in a burst of sunshine. She looked out of the window towards the beach and the sparkling sea. ‘It’s a lovely morning, Mother. Perhaps we’ll go out for a little walk later on.’

Dora put her hand to her chest. ‘I couldn’t possibly go out. I feel much too weak. I’ve been awake all night with dreadful palpitations.’

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