Winners and Losers (2 page)

‘Why don't you come too?' Peter had asked. ‘It will be more fun than hanging around here all our lives.'

Connor had made the excuse that he couldn't leave his brother in the lurch, which was true but only a part of the truth. Dan had come home from the war a hero, but there had been too many problems waiting for him, not least the fact that their elder brother Henry had let things go and the farm was facing bankruptcy. Despite that, he had taken his youngest brother to live with him and his wife, and Connor felt he owed him something for that at least. Sometimes he felt trapped working on the land with no prospects for the future, because things had moved on in the few years since the war ended. Gradually the country was becoming more prosperous, putting the years of hardship behind it. Connor knew he wanted more out of his life, but as yet he didn't know what he wanted to do.

Tiddy was right about the girl, though. There was no way he could afford to give her the things she expected from life.

Sarah let herself into the house and went straight up to her room. She looked at herself in the mirror, brushing her thick hair. It had been cut to collar length recently and she'd had an ends perm to put a little bounce into it. She supposed the colour of her hair was quite pretty, because it had sort of reddish lights in it and a slight natural wave. Her mother had said she didn't need a perm at all, but Sarah liked the extra bounce.

She'd had fun at the youth club, but she'd left earlier than she needed to because she had got bored with the darts and her friends had gone off to the pub for a drink. Sarah had been asked along but she'd refused; her mother didn't like her to go into pubs. She didn't like Sarah to smoke either, but she had that evening.

Undressing, Sarah thought about the man in the car. She hadn't answered when he spoke to her, because her mother had told her she shouldn't – but she had noticed that he was rather good-looking. He had very dark, almost black hair that looked a bit wavy. She hadn't been able to see the colour of his eyes in that quick glance, but she thought they might have been grey.

Sarah sighed as she slipped into bed and switched off the lamp. Phil had tried to grope her when she went outside to the toilets at the club, but she had managed to avoid him.

‘Mummy's girl,' he had called after her.

The jeer stung a little, because she knew that one of her friends must have been talking about her behind her back. She was pretty sure that neither Janice nor Phyllis was a virgin. They didn't say it openly, but she had heard some whispering going on at the youth club and she wondered if they knew what the men said behind their backs.

Sarah didn't want them to talk about her like that; she would rather they laughed and called her a mummy's girl – although she wasn't, not really. She did lots of things her mother wouldn't approve of, but some of the advice she was given made sense to Sarah.

She saw her friends wheeling prams and looking washed out, as if they were tired and fed up with struggling to make ends meet. They hadn't had much chance to have fun. Sarah wished she could find someone she really liked enough to do it with – she wouldn't mind getting married then – but so far she hadn't met the right one.

As she fell asleep she was still thinking about the man in the car. He had such bold eyes and his grin had nearly made her smile despite her determination to ignore him.

‘Connor,' Alice Searles said as her brother-in-law came down to the large farmhouse kitchen the next morning, yawning. ‘There's a letter for you – and a card from Peter. I had one too. He says he is in Gibraltar and he will have leave in a couple of months. He is going to visit when he gets back.'

‘Great,' Connor said and smiled at her. He had always liked his brother's wife. She was a little plumper than she had been when she first went out with Dan, but still attractive. ‘I was thinking about Peter last night . . .'

‘Do you miss him? I do.' Alice sighed. ‘I'm glad he joined the merchant navy, though, because it has been a good life for him. I think he hoped you would join too.'

‘He asked me to,' Connor admitted. The kitchen was warm and smelled of dogs, babies, herbs and frying bacon. It was a familiar smell and comfortable, but sometimes he would rather have been alone, away from all the hustle and bustle in the mornings as the children scrambled for their breakfast before leaving to walk the three miles to school. ‘I thought about it, but I don't think the navy is for me. Besides, I couldn't just walk out on Dan – he needed me.'

‘Yes. He still does . . .' Alice looked thoughtful. ‘You shouldn't let that stop you, though, Con – if there's something you would rather do with your life?'

‘I wouldn't if I knew what would suit me,' Connor said truthfully. ‘I sometimes think I ought to do something but I don't know what I want . . .' He grinned at her. ‘Do you want me out of your hair, Alice?'

He had lived with them since his brother came back at the end of the war. It hadn't occurred to him that Alice might enjoy having her home to herself.

‘No, of course not, daft,' Alice said and smiled. ‘I just think you don't have much fun tied to the land. Don't let the years slip by and then regret it, Con.'

‘I've got a holiday coming up, remember. I'm off to stay with Emily in a couple of days.'

‘Yes, that will be nice for you. Emily has such a lovely home and she always makes us all feel welcome.'

‘That house is lovely, but she has a hell of a time to keep it going.'

‘Yes, I know. Everyone thinks she is rich, but in a way she is no better off than we are . . .'

‘That bacon smells good.' Connor grinned. ‘Any chance of a bit of fried bread to go with it?'

‘Lady Vane,' Emily's housekeeper called as she entered the study where Emily was working at the beautiful Georgian partners' desk. ‘You asked me to remind you that your brother is coming to stay tomorrow. I think you wanted to clear any appointments for the next few days?'

‘Yes, Sheila, thank you.' Emily smiled at her. ‘I did remember. The vicar had arranged a meeting of the Church Friends Association for tomorrow afternoon, but I told him I would not be able to attend so he has moved it to the sixteenth of next month.'

‘I've given Connor his usual room and Cook is preparing a list of menus for you to approve.'

‘Connor isn't that fussy about what he eats.' Emily's expression was amused, because there wasn't a female member of her staff at Vanbrough who didn't have a soft spot for her youngest brother. ‘Do you know, it's six months since he visited, because Dan can't spare him for more than a few days now and then.'

‘Will Mr Daniel and Mrs Alice Searles be coming for Christmas this year?'

‘Oh, I'm not sure. Christmas is months away yet. Dan is always so busy on the farm. I've asked him and his family, and Frances too, but I doubt if my sister will come. She is wrapped up in that hotel of hers in Cornwall.'

‘Well, I suppose it takes up a lot of her time.'

‘I am sure it does.'

Emily sighed as her housekeeper left the room. Frances expected her to visit her at the hotel, because she didn't – or wouldn't – understand how much work was involved in running an estate like Vanbrough. She seemed to imagine that all Emily did was sit around and be waited on – or pretended to! Frances had no idea of the work that went into keeping up the traditions here.

Getting up from her desk, Emily walked to the window and glanced out at the beautiful view of smooth lawns and ancient trees. There was a mist drifting through the park, giving everything a slightly murky feel, but it would clear by mid morning. She loved this place, loved it as much as her father-in-law had, and was as much a prisoner of duty as Vane had been for the whole of his life. Sometimes she felt trapped by her surroundings.

When Simon had brought her here as a young bride for the first time she'd been overwhelmed by the magnificence of the house and grounds. She'd been nervous of Vane and his wife, Amelia, but she had learned to love this place – and to love Vane.

Her marriage had been such a tragic mistake. Simon had never loved her. He hadn't been capable of loving any woman – his tastes lay elsewhere – and he'd married her to please his father and to get an heir. Vane had loved her, though, loved her with a passion he had controlled, keeping it secret until he was on his deathbed. After Simon's death, Vane had found ways to keep Emily here, setting up a convalescent home for badly injured men towards the end of the war and putting her in charge. He had left Vanbrough to Emily's son Robert, along with part of the money. Vane had wanted Emily to run the estate, because he knew she loved it. Amelia had been very angry, because she knew that Robert wasn't really Simon's son.

After the funeral she'd gone off in a rage, vowing to contest the will and tell Vane's cousin the truth about Robert's birth – but she had never carried out her threats. Seven years had passed since Vane's death but Emily had heard nothing from her. She thought that Amelia must have decided the estate was more trouble than it was worth, and perhaps she was right. It was certainly hard work, and finding the money to keep going was more difficult than when Vane was alive.

He had left Emily ten thousand pounds for herself. Robert had four times that amount but it was tied up in a trust. The income came to Emily until her son was old enough to look after his own affairs and the money was used to pay the running cost of the house, which were ridiculously high. She was as careful as she could be while maintaining the standards Vane would expect, but money was tight.

‘What do I do next?' Emily looked up at Vane's portrait. ‘I can't put up the rents for the tenants and I can't stretch the income from Robert's trust. We need at least another thousand a year if I'm to keep supporting all those charities.'

Vane's image stared down at her unmoved. Once upon a time he had seemed to answer her when she talked to him, but that had stopped happening a long time ago.

‘I made a promise and I've kept it – but I'm not sure I can continue for much longer, Vane.'

Vane made no reply. Why should he? He had carried the burden during his life and the problem was hers now. She had accepted the burden and grown into her position. A beautiful, poised, elegant woman, she was admired by many but remained slightly apart, giving everything she had except herself. Emily had a deep well of love within her, but she had learned that it was unwise to love because it ended only in pain.

She frowned as she thought about her problem. There was really no one she could go to for help. Her sister Frances was rich, of course. She'd inherited a lot of property after her husband died – or had blackmailed her father-in-law for it, if you told the truth. Sam Danby had made her suffer for that, but in the end Frances had come out of it a wealthy woman. Money that had come from a dubious source, but enough so that Frances would never have to think twice about paying a bill.

Most people thought Emily was rich, because she lived in a house that everybody admired and many envied. She was always being asked to sit on this or that committee and to contribute to a new charity. Vane had been a charitable man, but he had divided his money in half when he died and that meant Emily's income was far less than her father-in-law had enjoyed.

‘Damn you, Vane!' Emily said. ‘I should sell everything and go off and live in Spain!'

It was an empty threat. She would struggle to keep going for as long as she could, but she might be forced to sell one of the farms. Before she did that she would need to take advice – perhaps from Vane's cousin, Alan Leicester. They had met at the funeral but not since, although Alan had phoned a couple of times and sent cards at Christmas.

Emily felt the niggle of guilt at the back of her mind. Alan should be Lord Vane. The estate hadn't been entailed and Vane was entitled to leave it where he chose, but the title should by rights belong to his cousin. Robert had been Vane's beloved grandson as far as the world was concerned – but it was a lie. A lie he had accepted and compounded by leaving his estate to Emily's son.

Shaking her head, Emily thrust the doubts to the back of her mind. She still missed Vane like hell, but she was perfectly capable of managing. She would find the money she needed, though something would have to go – either some land or one of the pictures. In the meantime she would forget her problems and enjoy Connor's visit. She didn't see nearly enough of her family.

‘Have you got everything you want?' Alice asked as Connor came downstairs carrying his battered old suitcase. ‘Clean shirts, pants, socks?'

‘Don't fuss, Alice,' he said but he was grinning. At twenty-four, Connor was a tall, strong, good-looking man with dark hair and bold eyes. Everyone said he was much like Daniel had been as a young man, but at his age Dan had already seen the horrors of war.

‘Emily won't think much of me if I let you visit her without the things you need.'

‘Emily wouldn't blame you. She knows what I'm like.'

‘Are you ready?' Daniel asked as he came into the kitchen. He was wearing stained cords and a shirt in a green and brown check that had seen better days, his cap pulled over his eyes. ‘I'll run you to the station, Connor. You don't want to leave your car standing there while you're away.'

‘Thanks,' Connor said. He kissed his sister-in-law's cheek. She smelled of babies and cooking. There had been a time when she always carried the scent of flowers. He noticed how tired she looked and said impulsively, ‘Don't work too hard, Alice. You should make Dan take you for a holiday.'

‘What did you want to say that for?' Daniel asked as they went out to the yard. A couple of mongrel dogs were sniffing round but ran to him, barking eagerly as he opened the van door. He shooed them away. ‘You know I can't afford to take time off, let alone pay for a holiday.'