Authors: Sally Wentworth
The first thing Rick wanted was, of course, to go to bed with her. Because she'd been so withdrawn at school, so busy working in her home all the rest of the time, Lucie had never even had a boyfriend before. She thought that Rick was in love with her, believed him when he said so, and didn't resist very much when he gave her too much to drink one night and took her virginity.
He made her as much a slave as she had been to her stepmother, but she was still innocent of mind and didn't realise that the little errands he sent her on were illegal, that on the nights when they sat necking in his car parked in a quiet residential street he was actually watching the houses, working out which would be good prospects to break into. He was kind to her in an offhand way, and made sure he kept her dependent on him so that she was unable to leave him.
Then came the terrible night when a neighbour saw him entering a house and called the police. By then Lucie had been living with him for almost three months, and on that particular night he took her with him. He left her in the car, saying that he had to meet someone on business. It might even have been true, but Rick saw an open window in a darkened house and wasn't able to resist breaking in.
Lucie was tired and had dozed, not waking until she heard the commotion and saw Rick come rushing towards her. But a policeman raced after him. Lucie didn't know that Rick had a gun. He shot the poor policeman twice then threw his loot away and escaped through an alleyway, abandoning Lucie to her fate. Perhaps he'd thought that she was so besotted by him that she wouldn't tell the police who he was, and maybe she wouldn't have done if they hadn't taken her to see the policeman in hospital for herself, all wired up to machines and drips, fighting for his life. She told them everything then, answered all their questions, completely devastated, her eyes opened to the life she'd been leading, to the even more terrible life she was heading for. She had to stand trial, but the police assured her that she'd get off lightly because this was her first offence and because she'd helped them. They were been kind enough, but she was kept in custody and didn't see Rick again until the trial. He knew there was no hope for him after she gave her testimony, but she never forgot the venom in his eyes as he looked at her. So then he did his best to implicate her, saying that she'd always known about the gun, that she'd helped him on lots of burglaries. Lucie protested her innocence but the jury believed him, and maybe the judge was having a bad day, because he sent her to prison too, for three years. Rick laughed at that, kept on laughing as they took him away to the cells.
The solicitor she'd been given wanted Lucie to! appeal against the sentence, but she was so completely intimidated by what had happened to her, was so overcome by misery that she did nothing. She withdrew yet deeper into herself, lived in a kind of stupor, doing what she was told, just going around like a zombie. But then Kate Brownlow was appointed as her prison visitor and gradually everything changed for the better and led to her meeting Seton.
But Aunt Kate had been right, Lucie thought; the older woman had tried hard to persuade her to tell Seton of her past, but Lucie had been so afraid that it would spoil things, had been so intimidated by his background and his job, that she hadn't listened, instead had begged Kate to keep her secret, made her promise never to tell. Should she confess everything to Seton now? Lucie wondered fretfully. She didn't want to. He had always thought that there was complete openness between them. What would he think when he knew that she had deceived him like this? But he loved her, and surely he would understand?
She tossed anxiously in the bed, wondering what
to
do, afraid of losing the perfect happiness they shared. One moment she decided that she would tell him, the next that she couldn't possibly. Her mind filled with apprehension when she thought how appalled Seton would be that he, a barrister, had a wife who had been to prison, that his son had an ex-convict for a mother. No matter that she had been innocent of any crime, that stain was on her record and always would be.
Lucie realised she'd been living in a fool's paradise—but had anything really changed? she thought, more hopefully. OK, Rick was out of prison, but why should that make any difference to her? They might still go on as they had always done, and then she would have told Seton for no reason at all. She didn't know what to do and thumped the pillows in angry indecision. But she remembered her aunt telling her it was always best to be completely honest, and she had almost made up her mind that she must tell him when he finally came home at last. She was still lying awake in the darkness, dreading having to tell him, and trying from somewhere to find the courage.
'Are you asleep?' he murmured. Lucie didn't answer but he knew she wasn't. He undressed, slipped into bed and reached for her.
She opened her mouth to speak, to tell him everything, but then sensed a feeling of excitement in him. 'What is it?'
'My meeting tonight—it was at the local political party headquarters. The sitting MP wants to retire before the next election so they have to choose a candidate to replace him. They decided they want a local man. They asked me if I would be interested.'
Lucie sat up with a jerk and switched on the light. She had been right; there was a blaze of excitement in Seton's eyes.
'What did you say?' she asked hollowly.
"That I would have to think about it, discuss it with you.'
'But you want to do it.' It wasn't a question.
There was no hesitation in his voice as Seton said, 'Yes. It would be a beginning, Lucie. And who knows what it might lead to? Think of the challenge. Think how exciting life could be.'
She groped at straws. 'You might not get elected.'
'I might not even get picked as the candidate.' He took her hand. 'I'd like to take a shot at it. But it's entirely up to you. If you hate the idea I'll forget it, of course. You must want it as much as I do; it must be a joint thing/Aspiring candidates are judged on their wives as much as on their own merits.'
'But what if I'm pregnant? What if you want another baby?' was all Lucie could think of to say. Seton laughed. 'Even MPs are capable of fathering children. If you'd like a demonstration...'
He reached to pull her down to kiss her, but for the first time since their marriage she pushed him away. 'You really want this, don't you?'
'Yes. Very much. What do you say?'
She switched off the light, not wanting him to see the worry hi her eyes. ‘I’ll think about it.'
But that wasn't what she thought about as she heard him fall asleep beside her. Seton had seldom asked anything of her; it had always been he who had given her everything she wanted. But now he was asking for this great commitment from her, asking her to back him in something that he really wanted. And such a career would be exactly right for him; he would make a hard-working, dedicated MP. But who would want him if they knew that she had been to prison? If she told Seton tonight, he would immediately back down, withdraw his name. He would lose his one chance to achieve the ambition of a lifetime—and all because she had let him down. Lucie put off giving him a decision for as long as she could. Seton was very patient but the local party wasn't and demanded an answer. There was only one she could give; Lucie had known that all along. Maybe she had been waiting for a miracle, for the party or Seton to change his mind, but life was short on miracles. She agreed that he should go ahead, that he should try to fulfill his ambition.
Only a short time later, when Seton had been selected to contest the next election, the phone rang while Lucie was doing the housework one afternoon. 'Hello?'
'Mrs Lucie Wallace?' It was a man's voice, stiff, formal.
'Yes. Who's calling?'
The voice changed, became silky, the London accent showing as the man said, 'Why, Lucie, darlin', don't you remember me?'
And she knew that Rick Ravena had found her.
LUCIE stood completely frozen, numb with shock. But then Rick started to speak again and she immediately slammed down the phone. All the strength seemed to have gone from her legs and Lucie staggered out of the kitchen, her arms held out before her, like a blind person groping her way. Reaching the downstairs cloakroom, she leaned against the wall, fighting sickness, her breath coming in agonised gasps of terror and despair. Dimly she heard the phone start to ring again and then stop as the answering machine cut in. Panic seized her. She mustn't let him leave a message. She had to stop him. Half running, half falling, Lucie went into Seton's study, crashed down onto her knees and yanked the plug of the answering machine from its socket. Then, with hands that were shaking uncontrollably, she scrabbled at the machine, sobbing in frustration when she couldn't open it at first, but at last took out the cassette. Still on her knees, she crawled back into the kitchen, pulled things haphazardly out of a cupboard until she found a large saucepan. Her breath still coming in moaning sobs, Lucie tore the endless snake of tape loose from the cassette, put it in the saucepan and somehow managed to find the matches and set light to it.
Leaning back against a cupboard, she watched the tape flame, tears running down her face and choked by sobs. She put her head in her hands, knowing that her peace was broken, her happiness gone. For about half an hour Lucie just sat there, crouched into herself, but then she heard the clock in the hall strike four and knew that Sam, who was at Anna's house playing with her son, Adam, would be brought home soon.
She mustn't let him see her like this, mustn't let Anna realise that anything was wrong. Hauling herself to her feet, Lucie picked up the saucepan and took the remains of the cassette out to the dustbin, burying it deep. The saucepan went into the dishwasher and she found a new cassette for the answering machine, managing somehow to record a message.
An idea occurred to her and she rang the phone company, told them she wanted her number changed immediately. They were unhelpful at first, but when Lucie threatened to go to another company they agreed to change the number the following day and to make it ex-directory. She left the receiver off and went upstairs to wash her face. Lifting her head, she saw herself in the mirror on the bathroom cabinet. All the colour had drained from her face; she looked ill, punch-drunk. Oh, God, she thought, with a dejection close to anger. Why? Why have you done this to me? Hadn't she been punished enough? She'd served her sentence; why couldn't she be left in peace? Because you lied, some inner voice accused her. Because you lied to Seton.
With a moan she thrust the thought away. Her hands still unsteady, Lucie put on some make-up, trying to hide her pallor under a bright, painted mask. Luckily Seton was away on circuit and wasn't due back until the weekend. Lucie's mind stopped short and she gave a gasp of horror; never before had she been glad that Seton was away. The call from Rick Ravena had come only a hour ago and already her thinking, her priorities had changed for the worse. But what else could you expect when evil was let loose in your life?
Going into the sitting-room, Lucie knelt on the window-seat, watching out for the car that would bring Sam home. She desperately needed him now, needed the comfort of his solid little body held close in her arms, the sound of his innocent prattle in her ears to drown out the sound of that other voice. The drive, partially screened by fir trees, curved away towards the gate and the road. A figure, only dimly seen, walked along the road, looking towards the house, then seemed to pause at the open gate.
Lucie's hair seemed to stand on end as she suddenly realised that if Rick had her telephone number then he would also know her address. The figure turned into the drive, began to walk towards the house. It was a man, quite tall, his features hidden by the upturned collar of his coat. Lucie drew back, her heart pounding so much that she felt faint.
The man reached the door, rang the bell. With a sudden surge of rage, LUCK ran into the hall and flung the door open. It wasn't Rick. The man was much older, dressed in clean but shabby clothes.
'Sorry to disturb you, but I was wondering if you needed any odd jobs or gardening done? I can turn my hand to anything and—'
Lucie, usually so kind and understanding to the underprivileged, who had been there herself and knew what it was like, shouted, 'No! Go away,' and slammed the door in the man's face.
Hurriedly, she bolted the door, put the safety-catch on, then leaned against it trembling all over. Lucie tried to steady herself, took deep breaths, told herself that she was overreacting. Above her head, the bell rang again, startling her out of her skin, making her give a scream of fright. 'Go away!' she yelled through the door. 'I told you to go away!'
'Lucie?' Anna's voice sounded from the other side. 'Lucie, are you all right?'
With a sob of relief Lucie undid the bolt and chain and opened the door to find Anna gazing at her in concern.
'What on earth's the matter?'
'Oh. I... Nothing.'
'It doesn't look like nothing. You look terrible.'
'Mummy?' Sam, standing beside her, stepped forward and took hold of Lucie's hand. His little face was troubled as he looked up at her.
Bending, Lucie swept him up into her arms—not such an easy task now that he was four years old. 'It's OK,' she reassured him, trying to smile, to keep her voice light. 'I was just being silly, that's all.'
They went inside, Lucie still carrying Sam because she needed to have him close, but she made herself put him down when they reached the kitchen.
Anna wrinkled her nose. 'I can smell burning.'
'Yes, I—I burnt some toast,' Lucie lied in desperation.
'Toast at this time of the day?'
'Late lunch.' She turned away. 'Go and hang your coat up in the cupboard, Sam, and then find your slippers.'
Sam went off happily; he was such a good child, so content, always so obedient.
'So what was that scene at the door all about?' Anna demanded as soon as he was out of earshot.
'A man came to the door. I didn't like the look of him,' Lucie fabricated.