The Promise (14 page)

‘Please don’t spout old wives’ tales at me, Mama. Those silly sayings are far too simplistic.’ And I walked away from her to angrily plump up the pillows on my bed, before flinging myself upon it.

‘That is because they are true,’ she snapped, standing before me with arms akimbo like some avenging angel. ‘Flirting with a passing stranger who rescues you from an embarrassing situation is not a suitable foundation upon which to build a friendship, let alone a secure future.’

I sat up, clenching my hands together as if in prayer in an effort to make her understand. ‘But Ellis Cowper is everything that Drew Kemp is not.’

‘How would you know that?’

‘I know because I have the intelligence to form my own judgements,’ I cried, and saw at once that my pride had betrayed me. The shock on her face was palpable.

‘Georgina, are you telling me that you have met this sailor again?’ She put her hands to her cheeks in horror. ‘Oh, my goodness, you fraternised with him at the Seamen’s Institute, didn’t you? Quite against my specific instructions to the contrary.’

‘Mama—’

‘Dear heaven, if so then you are ruined. You stupid girl, what were you thinking of?’ Her knees suddenly gave way and she slumped down on to the edge of my bed. For a moment I feared my mother might actually faint, something she’d never been prone to in her entire life.

‘I am not
ruined
, Mama. I’ve done nothing wrong.’ But as I did battle with the wisdom of proclaiming the depth of my love for Ellis, and whether I dare confess he had actually kissed me, more than once, she quickly rallied and was on her feet in a second.

‘And where was Maura when all of this was going on?’

‘Nothing was
going on
. We talked quite a bit, that’s all.’

‘Alone, and unchaperoned?’

I rolled my eyes heavenwards. ‘Well, yes, for a few moments we may have been alone, if Maura was serving tea or washing up in the kitchen. What of it?’

‘What of it?
What of it
?
’ Marching over to the bell pull she gave it a hefty tug. ‘We’ll see what that young miss has to say in her own defence. The girl will have to go, of course, and without a character. She was charged with looking after you, and I will not tolerate a disobedient servant. As was John. He shall be dismissed too.’

I was horrified, and instantly leapt to my feet. ‘But you can’t blame Maura, or John. It wasn’t their fault, it was mine. I will not apologise for liking Ellis … er, Mr Cowper. He’s interesting to talk to, has travelled the world and enjoyed all manner of adventures.’

‘I dare say he has,’ she dryly remarked. ‘And can you swear, hand on heart, that you never did anything but talk?’

I was saved from answering by a tap on the door, but before I had time to call for her to enter, my mother flung
it wide. ‘So there you are, madam, skulking as usual, I see,’ she stormed, somewhat unkindly.

Maura was visibly startled, her mistress being the last person she’d expected to see in my room, and one glance at my devastated expression told her she was not there for any happy reason. ‘You c-called, ma’am.’

‘I did, Maura. I wish to allow you one last opportunity to defend yourself, although what you could possibly say in your own defence I cannot for the life of me imagine. I wish to know why I should not turn you out on the streets this minute.’

All the colour drained from poor Maura’s face. ‘On the streets, ma’am? W-why would you do such a thing?’

‘Why would I not?’

‘I-I’m wondering what it is you think I’ve done, ma’am. ’Cos I swear I’ve not done not’ing, to be sure.’

Her Irishness always came to the fore when she was in distress. She’d come to America as a young girl, endured a difficult time on Ellis Island while trying to find employment in New York, before coming west to Frisco. Now she was facing the possibility of life on the empty streets again. My heart filled with pity for her, and no small degree of guilt. Mother, however, was intransigent. ‘I believe you have failed in your duty to my daughter.’

‘Ma’am? Miss?’ Maura looked at me, a frown puckering her round anxious face, obviously hoping for some indication of what this was all about.

Hating to see the fear in her eyes I quickly stepped forward. ‘Mama, I’ve already told you that Maura is
not to blame.
I
chose to volunteer my assistance at the Seamen’s Institute, and bullied Maura, and Prue, to come with me. I did it, yes, because I wished to see Mr Cowper again. He’s a fine young man whose company I enjoy. But it was not Maura’s doing. On the contrary, she urged me to call an end to our friendship.’

‘Oh, I did so, ma’am,’ Maura hastily agreed.

‘Obviously not forcibly enough.’

‘I did me best, and I never left them alone, not for a minute … well, never longer’n a minute or two at most, not even when we were in the park.’

‘The
park
?’

‘Oh, Lordy,’ Maura said, clapping her hand to her mouth. ‘Now I’ve blown it.’

I was utterly mortified by this revelation. The little maid’s eyes were sparkling at me above the flat of her hand and for an instant I had the chilling sensation that her blunder had been intentional, that she took pleasure in my discomfort. Surely not. Why would she do such a thing? I dismissed it as fancy almost at once. Maura was not only my maid, but my most loyal friend. She may suffer a little jealousy from time to time, but I knew she would never do anything to hurt me.

Mama was glaring at me, aghast. ‘Is this true, Georgina? Did you meet this young man, this unknown
foreign
sailor, alone and unchaperoned in the park?’

I took a moment to catch my breath before answering, but there seemed little point in denying it. ‘Yes, I did.’

‘Heaven help us, then you are indeed ruined!’

‘No, Mama, I swear I—’

‘Answer my question, did you ever do more than talk?’

‘Mama, I …’ Should I tell the truth? Should I say that I had every right to kiss him as I love him, and he loves me? Would she stop me seeing him again if I did, or could I persuade my unsympathetic parents to give Ellis one more chance? I may well be able to win my father round, in the end, but Mama was another matter altogether.

‘Well?’

I glanced across at Maura who was biting hard on her lower lip, her small hazel eyes darting from one to the other of us in total panic. If I chose to say nothing, my secret was surely safe with her. Perhaps that would be the wisest course, at least until Ellis returned from his latest voyage. ‘No, of course not. I just liked to listen to tales of his adventures.’

I might have gone on to describe some of them, to prove my point, but Mama was pacing the floor, wringing her hands and no longer listening to me. ‘Your hesitation says it all. I can no longer believe in your innocence.’ She halted before me, her gaze glacial. ‘You do realise, Georgina, this changes everything. You have confirmed my worst fears. There will be no further visits to the Seamen’s Institute, which is clearly a place of utter depravity, no more of these love trysts in the park, nor any more tantrums of this nature. It is long past time you faced reality. In future you will, at all times, behave like a lady.’

‘You want me to graciously accept my fate, is that it? To put my head on the block with a smile on my face?’

‘Please do not overdramatise, it does not become you.
You are usually so patient, Georgia, so quiet and sensible. I blame this man, your
lover
!’ Her tone was bitter. ‘He has evidently brought out the worst in you and ruined you in the process.’

With the patience she so admired in me I repeated my point like a mantra. ‘He is not my
lover
. I am
not
ruined. I have done
nothing wrong
.’

‘You have done
everything
wrong!’

A terrible fear was growing inside of me, and I understood, in that moment, what it meant when someone said that a face could go purple with rage. My mother had always been strict, but I had never seen her quite this angry before.

Now she spun on her heel and strode to the door, where she paused to issue her parting words. ‘I shall give you time to reflect upon the misery and near-catastrophe your ill-judged rebellion has brought upon us. If you have any sense of loyalty or pride left for your father and me, if not for yourself, then you will think very carefully on this excellent proposal. It is not too late to salvage your reputation, not yet. But do not hesitate too long or you will indeed be lost, a woman no man would touch, not even a penniless sailor. Fortunately, Drew Kemp is ready to call the banns and wishes the marriage to take place within the month, six weeks at most. Your father and I saw no reason why that shouldn’t happen. Now it seems speed is even more imperative. We’ll visit the dressmaker to discuss your gown first thing in the morning, just as soon as you have recovered your equilibrium. As for you, Maura Kerrigan, thank your lucky stars there is a way
out of this mess, which has saved your bacon too.’

Maura bobbed a hasty curtsey. ‘Thank you, ma’am.’

With that Mama left the room, ushering the subdued maid before her. And to my utter dismay I heard the key turn in the lock. Not that there was anywhere, or anyone, to run to, even were I free to do so. I took off my slipper and threw it at the door.

‘I expected you home long before this. What have you been doing all this time? You must have been gone for
seven weeks
!’

‘Six, actually, and I’ve been getting to know my grandmother,’ Chrissie told her mother with a wry smile. ‘Which has been most enlightening.’

They were sitting in the lounge of Vanessa’s London apartment and even through the windows, always kept firmly closed against the dust and rain, Chrissie could hear the familiar hum of the city: buses and cars swishing by, the steady chatter and clatter of feet and tongues, a church bell and the distant whine of a siren. Sounds she had once taken for granted and now couldn’t help comparing with the peace and solitude of the Lakes.

‘Don’t be pedantic, it doesn’t suit you,’ Vanessa snapped.

‘I found Georgia to be really rather a remarkable
woman, obviously well liked and much respected in the town.’ She wanted to say ‘and with a remarkable story to tell’ but didn’t quite have the courage. Perhaps she could approach the subject later, when Vanessa was in a better frame of mind. At least there was no sign of a bottle anywhere around. Maybe she was off the booze, at last. Not wishing to risk upsetting her mother if that were the case, Chrissie decided she would stick to more practical matters.

‘According to Mrs Gorran, her housekeeper, the pair of them were thoroughly involved in WVS work during the war, and have spent the years since restoring the family home. A splendid job they’ve made of it too. Rosegill Hall has a charm and beauty all its own, yet manages to remain homely and welcoming, as does the hostess.’

Vanessa gave a scornful sniff. ‘Now you sound like a travel brochure. A house is an inanimate thing. My mother is far less caring of people, particularly members of her own family.’

Chrissie frowned, remembering what Ben had said about Georgia’s son and daughter-in-law. And although her grandmother had in the end attended the Festival along with everyone else in the town, there hadn’t been a single member of her family present. Certainly not the son, whom Chrissie had been hoping to meet before she left.

‘There does seem to be an issue with
your brother
. You know, the one you forgot to mention,’ Chrissie pointedly remarked, ‘in that he wants Grandmother to retire and move out of the Hall, but she refuses absolutely to do so.’

‘He always was a greedy little tyke; on the other hand, he may have a point. Ma is getting rather old to be running such a large house.’

‘Actually, she’s extremely fit and active, so why should she move? And the twins,
your sisters
, visit her regularly apparently. I’m sorry, Mum, but I can no longer see her as the wicked witch of the woods, even if she has cast you in the role of the black sheep of the family. Oh dear, now I’m mixing my metaphors, but you know what I mean.’

‘This is no joke, Chrissie.’ Vanessa’s tone was sharp with anger, and jumping up she began to pace about the room in a strangely agitated fashion.

‘I do appreciate that,’ Chrissie conceded, already regretting her flippancy. The last thing she wanted was to drive Vanessa back to the gin bottle. ‘I’m sorry, I’m just trying to understand what’s going on between the pair of you; why you’ve kept your entire family a secret from me all these years, even to the extent of lying about your maiden name.’

‘I had my reasons.’

‘What possible reason could you have? None of this makes any sense. The fact of the matter is, Grandmother has been most friendly towards me, and, before you ask, no, I didn’t reveal my true identity, although I was tempted to do so on more than one occasion. I chose not to because of my promise to you. One from which you will have to release me, as I can’t go on living a lie.’

‘I don’t see why your “true identity”, as you call it, should be a problem. You are unlikely to see her again, certainly if I have anything to do with it.’

‘Ah, but you don’t have anything to do with it,’ Chrissie quietly pointed out. Then, taking a breath, she continued, ‘Look, there’s something you need to know.’

Vanessa’s eyes sharpened with a new anxiety, and almost as if her knees could no longer support her she sank again into a chair. ‘What? What do I need to know?’

‘I’ve decided to move to Windermere, if not necessarily permanently, at least for the foreseeable future.’

All colour drained from her mother’s face before flooding back to a dull crimson. ‘
I will not allow it!
’

Chrissie very gently took her hand. ‘Mum, do I have to remind you again that I’m a big girl now. I need a fresh start, somewhere far away from my grief and memories of the war, as well as Peter and the way he’s trying to take control of my life in his quiet, unobtrusive way.’

‘He loves you, and wants only the best for you.’

‘I’m not so sure.’

‘I’d be the last person to advocate marriage, but Peter has been a good friend to you and at least deserves your appreciation and friendship in return.’

‘I do value his being there when I most needed a friend, but it’s time to move on. The fact is, I’ve taken on a shop, only a small one, but where I intend to sell second-hand books and cards. It will be fun and give me the independence I crave.’

Face tight with anger, Vanessa said, ‘You could do that in London. Enjoy this so-called freedom and independence you crave, here, where you belong.’

‘I’m sorry, but I’ve made up my mind. I’ve also spoken to Mrs Lawson from the flat below. She’s happy to step
in and help with the cleaning, meals and suchlike. And I will, of course, continue to help out with your living costs. Once the business gets going, anyway,’ Chrissie added, still hoping her mother might rouse herself and take control of her own life again.

‘And what about poor Peter?’

‘I do wish you wouldn’t refer to him in that way. I’ve told him countless times it’s over between us, that we were never anything more than good friends. Unfortunately, he doesn’t listen. I believe it will be better for us both if I go. His persistence is turning into something very like harassment. I do hope you didn’t tell him where I was staying.’

‘Of course not. I may have mentioned you’d gone north, for a holiday, but I didn’t say where. I have no more wish than you for him to go poking his nose into our private affairs.’

‘If for different reasons,’ Chrissie shrewdly remarked. At which point her mother took out a half-bottle of gin from the cocktail cabinet and went off to bed.

Vanessa did not appear for breakfast, which was no surprise considering the vast amount of alcohol she’d drunk the night before. Chrissie made a start on her packing, sorting through some old books she might be able to sell. When Vanessa finally did appear, she absolutely refused to talk about the proposed move.

Later that afternoon, as Chrissie was carrying a pile of books to the hall, where she was stacking stuff ready to be transported to her new home, she heard her mother
speaking to someone on the phone. Presumably a woman friend, but there was something in Vanessa’s tone of voice which clearly indicated distress. Chrissie paused, and, nervous of bounding unannounced into the middle of a private conversation, stepped back to hide behind the dining room door.

‘What am I to do? I’m at my wits’ end, she simply will not listen.’ There was a pause, presumably as the person on the other end of the line offered sympathetic advice. ‘No, I’ve tried that, I’ve tried everything, but she is quite obdurate.’

Another long pause, in which Chrissie began to wish she’d either made her presence clear from the start, or quickly retreated to her own room. Or else vanish through a crack in the floor. Now she was terrified of moving a muscle in case one of the books should tumble off the stack in her arms and reveal her as an eavesdropper.

Her mother was talking again, her normally
well-modulated
tones tight and high-pitched. ‘The terrible thing is that it’s partly my fault. I insisted she went incognito, and now, having kept her identity secret for so long, Ma will have fifty fits if she reveals it now.’

A lengthier pause this time, one in which Chrissie miserably imagined the caller on the other end filling Vanessa’s ready ear with other possible dour consequences when she revealed this wicked deception.

‘Oh, she’s already made it very clear that her decision to move has nothing whatsoever to do with me. None of my business, evidently. I really don’t know what else I can say to dissuade her. She has no idea what she is meddling
in, or what the consequences might be. I don’t know how I shall cope if she goes through with this.’

And to Chrissie’s complete and utter horror, her cool sophisticated mother fell to weeping. She heard her say, ‘I have to see you. It’s been too long. You must come, I need you.’

Instantly swamped with guilt, Chrissie longed to dash in and beg forgiveness for her thoughtlessness, for pushing the beautiful but always vulnerable Vanessa into something which obviously caused her immense distress. Instead, she slunk back to her own room, and softly closed the door behind her. Giving in to emotional blackmail had always got her into even deeper water in the past.

After a largely sleepless night worrying over the phone call she’d overheard, and filled with guilt over abandoning her mother, Chrissie decided it was time to put forward her suggestion. She’d been careful up to now not to rush her, but waving her toast about in a flush of enthusiasm, as if the notion had just occurred to her, she cried, ‘Hey, I’ve got a brilliant idea. Why don’t you come back to the Lakes with me and stay for a while in the flat? You could help make it presentable. It could be fun splashing paint on, sewing curtains and cushions, buying bits and bobs for it.’

‘Chrissie, it’s very sweet of you to invite me to do your sewing for you, but your little ploy won’t work.’

‘Damn, didn’t think you’d see through it quite so quickly. You know how hopeless I am with a needle and thread. Anyway, why wouldn’t it work? It would at least
give you the opportunity to see Georgia again. The pair of you could start to heal the breach, talk to each other like civilised human beings.’

Vanessa was shaking her head in steadfast denial. ‘What a very cosy view of the world you do have. She would absolutely refuse to see me.’

‘How do you know? Time may have mellowed her. She might be experiencing regret for mistakes long past.’

Her mother gave a bitter little laugh. ‘I very much doubt it. While it’s always been clear to everyone that she is the one responsible for this split in the family, she blames me entirely, insists I stormed off in a huff or some fit of adolescent rebellion, even though I was almost twenty-one at the time. It’s a moot point who is the victim here. My mother is a difficult woman, obstinate and unyielding, stern in her views, and with a strong sense of duty to family.’

‘And what is so wrong with that? It doesn’t mean you can’t forgive and forget, put the past behind you and make a fresh start, as I am doing. Going round in circles arguing about who was to blame, or who was the real victim, is pointless, isn’t it?’

Vanessa began to noisily clear the table, rattling cups and saucers as she almost tossed them into the sink. ‘Sometimes what happened in the past never does quite go away, and is best forgotten. You’ll learn that as you get older.’

Hadn’t Georgia said something very similar? But Chrissie was fast losing patience. ‘Don’t patronise me, Mum. I’m not a child. I know about pain and suffering, remember?’

‘You know nothing!’

They washed up in a strained silence, then concentrated on the packing while tempers cooled. Chrissie was struggling to hide her irritation by trying to decide which were the most sensible items of clothing to take with her in her new life, and which she should discard. They couldn’t even seem to agree on that. ‘It’s cold in the Lakes,’ Vanessa tartly reminded her, ‘you’ll need all your warm woollies, waterproofs, boots and wellingtons, not those silly shoes.’

‘You used to wear silly shoes, I seem to recall.’

‘I was young then.’

‘I’m young now. I might go to a dinner dance where silly shoes are essential.’

‘How could you without a man?’

‘I might find a man.’ Might already have found one, the thought came, unbidden.

Her mother’s expression was scathing. ‘Far too soon for such nonsense.’

Chrissie thought of her watery drenching following the romantic smooch with Ben, and said no more. Perhaps mothers did sometimes know best.

The situation, Chrissie thought, was untenable. If she told her grandmother who she really was, then Vanessa would fall to pieces, was already doing so, bit by bit. Yet if she didn’t own up to this deception, what would Georgia think of her once the truth came out, as it surely must in the end? Oh, what a muddle!

Her grandmother had hinted at some nostalgic regrets
over the past. Surely her mother must have some too. Chrissie decided to have one more attempt to winkle a little more out of her before she left.

On her last day, as Vanessa helped Chrissie to choose which pieces of furniture she might take with her for the flat over the shop, she stubbornly returned to her argument. ‘So why are you so against visiting the Lakes, even if you have no wish to actually move there permanently? Why will you make no attempt to patch up this quarrel and make friends with your own mother, who is now, I suspect, quite a lonely old woman?’

Vanessa’s lips momentarily tightened. ‘You know very well, Chrissie. I’ve told you a hundred times. She practically threw me out just because I fell in love with your father.’

‘Perhaps she thought you were too young, as you did with me, I seem to remember.’

‘It wasn’t the same. I was older than you for one thing, almost twenty-one, and there wasn’t a war on.’

‘The war was just ending when I married Tom. I thought we were safe.’ There was a bitter sadness in her voice and Vanessa gave her a quick hug.

‘I’m sorry, darling, but you know what I mean.’

Chrissie wasn’t sure that she did, but inwardly resolved to keep the discussion light, choosing her next words with care. ‘OK, fair enough, but I have the distinct impression there’s much more to this matter than you’re actually telling me. You’ve never explained, for instance, how you two lovebirds met. Was it at the house, or by the lake? You said something on the telephone about my father coming to see Georgia. Why was that, do you know?’