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Authors: Lucinda Riley

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BOOK: The Girl on the Cliff
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‘Yes.’ Mary turned to Mrs Carruthers. ‘What time will you be needing me back?’

‘Take as much time as you want, dear. I’m sure Nancy won’t mind covering your duties just for once, eh, Nancy?’

‘No, Mrs C,’ Nancy agreed reluctantly, her nose pushed firmly out of joint by the turn of events.

‘’Tis awfully kind of you to spare Mary, Mrs Carruthers. And I promise I’ll have her back here by ten o’clock sharp,’ added Sean.

‘As I said, any time will do,’ Mrs Carruthers agreed happily.

Mary and Sean left the house and stopped in the mews beyond it.

‘I’d forgotten how you could charm the birds out of the trees, Sean Ryan.’ Mary gazed up at him in admiration. ‘Even that old battleaxe that I work for. Where should we go?’

Sean looked down at her and shrugged. ‘You’ll be the one with the knowledge of London, Mary. I must leave it to you.’

‘Well now, I’d say that for a start we should go somewhere quiet. So why don’t we go and sit in the gardens just across from here for a while, where no one will be bothering us?’

Sean took her hands in his. ‘I don’t care, as long as I can stare into those beautiful eyes of yours.’

They walked across the road to the square gardens, opened the wrought-iron gate and sat down on a bench.

‘Ah, Mary.’ Sean kissed Mary’s hands. ‘You can’t know what it means to me to see you, I –’ he choked suddenly on his words and sat, silent, next to her.

‘What is it, Sean?’

‘I –’

And then he began to sob. Great wracking sobs which shook his body. Mary looked on in dismay, not knowing what to say or how to help.

‘I’m sorry, Mary, I’m sorry …’ Sean wiped the tears away roughly with one of his big hands. ‘I’m being daft, so I am, but the hell … the
hell
I’ve been to and seen … and there you are, beautiful as you always were. I –’ his shoulders heaved – ‘can’t explain.’

‘Perhaps ’tis best if you try and tell me, Sean. I’m not
promising I can help, but maybe I can listen,’ said Mary softly.

Sean shook his head. ‘I swore to myself I wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t break down when I saw you but … Mary, how can I tell you what it has been like? How I’ve wished for death so many times because life is –’ his voice cracked – ‘beyond endurance.’

Mary stroked his hand gently. ‘Sean, I’m here, and whatever it is you need to tell me, I can cope with it, I promise you.’

‘The stink, Mary, the smell of dead, rotting corpses … it fills my nostrils even now. Just a-lying there in the mud, trampled over – bits of bodies everywhere you look. And the smell of gun smoke and gas, and the bangs that would frighten the life out of you going on and on, all day, all night, without end.’ Sean put his head in his hands. ‘There’s no respite, Mary, no respite at all. And you’d be knowing every time you went over the top that, at best, you’d lose your friends and, at worst, you’d lose yourself. And wouldn’t that have been fine! To escape from that living hell I’ve been in for almost three and a half years!’

Mary gazed at him in horror. ‘Sean, we hear only that our boys are doing well now. That we are winning.’

‘Ah, Mary.’ Sean was no longer crying. His head hung heavy still in his hands. ‘They don’t want to tell you of the suffering, of course they don’t. To be sure, they wouldn’t get another human being into the trenches if they knew the truth.’ He looked up at her suddenly. ‘And I shouldn’t be telling you now.’

‘Sean,’ Mary reached out her hand and stroked his head,
felt his wiry hair beneath her fingers, ‘’tis right you’re telling me. I’m to be your wife as soon as you’re out of this. And it can’t be long, I’m thinking, can it?’

‘I’ve been thinking the same thing every day for three and a half years, Mary, and I’m still there,’ he replied desolately.

They sat in silence for a while.

‘You know, Mary,’ Sean said eventually, ‘I’ve forgotten what we’re fighting for. And I’m not sure I can go back and face it again.’

‘’Twill be soon you’re out of it,’ Mary continued stroking his hair, ‘and home with me in Dunworley and our fine new house, where we both belong.’

‘You must never tell my mammy any of this.’ Sean looked up at her, anxiety on his face. ‘Do you promise me, Mary? I couldn’t bear to have her thinking and worrying, now. And you’re right.’ He reached for her hand and squeezed it so tight that the blood left Mary’s fingers. ‘’Twill be over soon. It must be.’

When Mary arrived back at the house and crept upstairs to her bedroom a few hours later, she was greeted by Nancy, sitting upright in bed, waiting for her to come in.

‘Well? How was it? I never seen Mrs C so taken before. He’s a real charmer, your Sean.’

‘Yes, he is that.’ Mary wearily began to remove her clothes.

‘Where did you go? Did he take you dancing?’

‘No, there was no dancing tonight.’

‘Did he take you to a club for supper?’

Mary pulled on her nightdress. ‘No.’

‘Well then, what did you do?’ said Nancy, with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

Mary climbed into bed. ‘We sat in the gardens in the square.’

‘You mean, you didn’t go nowhere?’

‘No, Nancy,’ Mary put out the light, ‘we didn’t go nowhere.’

12

The following evening, Sean came back to Cadogan House to collect Mary again. This time, she took him by tram up to Piccadilly Circus and they bought fish and chips, sitting under Eros to eat them.

‘I wish ’twas longer, Mary, and that I could take you somewhere special.’

‘This is special for me, Sean.’ Mary kissed him on the cheek. ‘’Tis better than going to a crowded place and having to mind how we behave, don’t you think?’

‘’Tis fine by me, if ’tis fine by you,’ Sean agreed, stuffing the chips hungrily into his mouth. ‘Mary, I want to say how sorry I am about last night. You didn’t deserve to hear all that. And I’m better today.’

‘’Tis no problem, Sean,’ Mary shrugged. ‘You needed to let it out, and it’s only right you did it with me.’

‘Well now, I don’t want to be talking any more about all that. I’ll be back soon enough in the midst of it. Tell me about you, Mary, and your life here in London.’

Mary did so as they walked hand-in-hand down to St James’s Park. Finally, Sean took her face in his hands. ‘Mary, it won’t be long now, and we’ll both be going back home.’ He looked suddenly anxious. ‘You will want to come back to Dunworley, won’t you? I mean,’ Sean threw his arms wide and indicated what was around him, ‘’tis hardly London town.’

‘No, it isn’t, Sean,’ Mary agreed. ‘And I’d say both of us have grown up since we met all those years ago. And the world has changed too. But we’ll build a life together, wherever that is.’

‘Mary, oh Mary.’ Sean wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hard. He pulled away from her suddenly. ‘I’ll be getting too carried away with myself if I’m not careful.’ He took a few deep breaths then hugged her again. ‘We’d better be walking back now. I don’t want you in trouble with Mrs Carruthers.’

The two of them strolled through the streets, still humming with activity at eleven o’clock at night. ‘Just like Clon village on a rainy Sunday evening,’ Sean smirked. ‘So, how do you find Lawrence Lisle? Is he like his brother, Sebastian, a bit of a limp rag? For all his land and his big house.’

‘I couldn’t tell you, Sean,’ said Mary. ‘I haven’t seen sight nor sound of him since I arrived.’

‘Where is he?’

‘No one knows for sure, but he works for the British government overseas. The rumour is he’s in Russia.’

‘Well, you might have heard what’s going on there now. I’d say that if your Mr Lisle is in Russia, you’d be seeing him back here pretty soon. The Bolsheviks are becoming more powerful as each day passes. Ah,’ Sean sighed, ‘I’d say the world is in a right old state just now. And I’m wondering where it will all end.’

They’d arrived in the mews and stood silently at the top of the stairs, neither of them knowing how to say goodbye.

‘Come here, my Mary, hold me and give me the strength
to turn away from your softness and walk back into hell,’ Sean murmured as she put her arms around him.

‘I love you, Sean,’ she whispered. ‘Come back to me safe, won’t you?’

‘I’ve got this far, haven’t I?’ he reassured her. ‘I’ll write to you as often as I can, but don’t be worrying yourself now if you don’t hear for a bit. I’ve a feeling things are to be mighty difficult. There’s another big push coming which’d sort it out once and for all.’

‘I won’t. Bless you, my sweetheart, and may God bring you back safe home to me soon. Goodbye, Sean.’ Mary wiped her tears on Sean’s greatcoat and stood up on tiptoe to kiss him.

‘Goodbye, pet. ’Tis only the thought of you that is going to get me through.’

Sean turned away from her reluctantly, tears in his own eyes. And, shoulders hunched, walked slowly away down the mews.

‘Don’t know what’s eating you at the moment,’ Nancy commented in bed a few days later. ‘I suppose it’s seeing your fella and him going off again back to it all, is it?’

‘Yes,’ Mary sighed into the darkness. ‘The things that he told me about what it’s like out there. I can’t be getting the pictures out of my mind.’

‘Perhaps he was exaggerating to get your sympathy, and maybe an extra kiss!’

‘No, I don’t think so, Nancy,’ Mary sighed. ‘I wish it was so, but Sean isn’t a liar.’

‘Well, from what the papers are saying, sounds as though it’ll be over soon, and then your fella can whisk
you off back into the bog you both came from,’ Nancy chuckled. ‘Want to go up to town on Thursday, do some window shopping and have our tea at Lyons? Might cheer you up.’

‘I think I’ll just see how I feel.’

‘Suit yourself,’ Nancy huffed.

Mary rolled over, closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Ever since she’d said goodbye to Sean three days ago, she had found it impossible to rid her head of the dreadful images he’d conjured up. And, since then, she had begun to notice the countless men milling around London with eye patches, a lost arm or a leg. And this afternoon, a soldier standing in the centre of Sloane Square, shouting to passers-by as though his wits had left him. Sean had said the noise of the continual shelling affected the soldiers’ brains. Mary had turned away from the poor, demented soul with tears in her eyes.

The papers were full of the Bolshevik revolution in Russia, and the fact that the Russian Imperial family had been arrested
en masse
. The talk in the kitchen was that they’d be seeing the master home any day soon. Mrs Carruthers had apparently received a telegram to tell her to prepare the house for his imminent arrival. She immediately went into overdrive, having Mary and Nancy polish the silver three times, until Smith, the butler, gave his approval.

‘As if the master’s going to notice whether his teaspoons have a couple of marks on them!’ Nancy exclaimed irritably. ‘After being in all that Russian hoo-hah, I should think he’ll just be glad to be comfy in his own bed.’

Although the house was on red alert, there was still no
sign of Lawrence Lisle. Then, four days later, a bleary-eyed Mrs Carruthers notified the staff that the master had just arrived home at three o’clock in the morning.

‘And for reasons you’ll find out later, I ain’t had no sleep since,’ she complained. ‘Honestly,’ she raised her eyebrows at Smith, ‘who’d have thought it of him?’ They shared a moment of disbelief, before Mrs Carruthers said, ‘Mary, the master and I want to see you in the drawing room at eleven o’clock sharp.’

‘Am I in trouble?’ she asked nervously.

‘No, Mary, it isn’t you who’s in trouble … anyway, I’m saying no more about it until the master’s seen you. Make sure you’re in a clean uniform and there’s not a wisp of hair hanging out of your cap.’

‘Yes, Mrs C.’

‘I wonder what all this is about?’ said Nancy as Mrs Carruthers left the kitchen. ‘She looks like she’s in a right two and one. Why do they want to see you?’

‘Well now, I’ll be finding out, won’t I, in a couple of hours?’ Mary answered tightly.

Mary presented herself in front of the drawing-room doors at eleven o’clock prompt and knocked. Mrs Carruthers opened the door.

‘Come in and meet Mr Lisle, Mary.’

Mary did so. Standing by the fireplace was a tall man, who bore a strong resemblance to his younger brother, Sebastian. To Mary’s mind, Lawrence Lisle seemed to have gleaned the best out of their joint gene pool.

‘Good morning. I am Lawrence Lisle. Er … Mary, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, sir,’ she curtsied.

‘Mary, there has arisen in this household a … delicate situation. And, having consulted with Mrs Carruthers, she thinks you are the one person who may be able to help us with it.’

‘I’m sure I’ll do my best, sir. When I know what it is,’ Mary replied nervously.

‘Mrs Carruthers says you were brought up in a convent orphanage.’

‘That’s correct, sir.’

‘And while you were in the convent, you helped take care of the other children there, especially the younger ones?’

‘Yes, sir, when the babes were left on the doorstep by the poor mothers, I’d help the nuns care for them.’

‘So, you like babies?’

‘Oh yes, sir, I love them.’

‘Jolly good, jolly good,’ Lawrence Lisle nodded. ‘Well, Mary, the situation is this: I have brought home with me from my travels a baby, whose mother, just like those poor women who left their children on the convent doorstep, found herself … unable to take care of it. She has asked me to do so, until further notice.’

‘I see, sir.’

‘Now, I have talked with Mrs Carruthers about employing a nursemaid, but she suggested that you might be the person to fulfil the role temporarily. At present, your duties as parlour maid are rarely utilised, and almost certainly won’t be for the next few months to come. So Mrs Carruthers and I would like you to take over the care of the baby immediately.’

‘I see, sir. Well now, how old is this baby, sir?’

‘She must be … well,’ Lawrence thought for a moment, ‘I should say she is no more than four or five months.’

‘Right, sir, and where is she?’

‘She’s there.’

He pointed to a small bassinet sitting on a chaise longue at the other end of the drawing room. ‘Go and take a look if you would like to.’

BOOK: The Girl on the Cliff
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