Winners and Losers (7 page)

He hadn't planned it this way! If he'd done things differently, he might have had his own garage now. He knew he could have made a reasonable living from that and then he could have handed the small-holding over to Connor, as he'd planned. A scowl settled on his face as he realized that his dreams were vanishing like early-morning mist. If he had to pay that scheming hussy for keeping her mouth shut . . . But he wouldn't, damn her! He would tell Alice the truth . . . But as he saw the smoke rising from the chimneys of his home, Daniel realized he could never tell her the truth.

Alice worked so hard and got very little in return, except a handful of children and more work. It wasn't the life he'd promised her or himself. He was caught in a trap and he couldn't see a way out.

‘Damned if I do and damned if I don't,' he muttered to himself as he shut off the tractor and headed towards the kitchen. What was the worst that could happen? Alice wouldn't leave him . . .

As he entered the kitchen the smell of vomit hit him. Alice was pacing up and down, looking worried to death, and Sally was obviously ill again. All thought of telling his wife about Maura fled as he saw the red patches in his youngest child's cheeks.

‘I think she is really ill this time,' Alice said. ‘I don't know what to do, Dan. I have to get the others off to school and—'

‘What's wrong?' Connor asked, walking into the kitchen. ‘If you want to take Sally to the doctor, I'll look out for the others. Danny will help, won't you?'

‘Yeah,' Danny replied, looking at his screaming sister. ‘Is she going to die?'

‘No, of course she isn't,' Alice said. She thrust the child at Daniel. ‘Hold her while I get ready – and then you can take me to the doctor's.'

‘The surgery won't be open for another hour . . .'

‘Take me to his house,' Alice said. ‘She has been screaming ever since you left the house this morning. I can't stand it, Dan. It's different this time and I want the doctor to look at her. You know what happened to Frances's son . . .'

‘I took Fran straight to the hospital. If you think it is that serious, perhaps . . .'

‘I trust Doctor Parks,' Alice said. ‘I don't like hospitals. They put poor Mr Giles outside and left him because they said it was healthy and he died of pneumonia three days later.'

‘He had consumption,' Dan reminded her. ‘Fresh air is supposed to be good for people with tuberculosis.'

‘Not when it is freezing cold. I want to see Doctor Parks.'

‘All right, love. Go and get ready, then. I dare say he will give you something to help with the fever. She's burning up, poor love.'

He kissed the top of Sally's head. She was hot and sweaty and she smelled of pee and vomit. Alice was a good mother but she couldn't cope with Sally's constant crying and sickness. Maybe they should have taken her to the doctor weeks ago when all this started . . .

‘Sally has chicken pox,' Doctor Parks said after examining her. ‘The rash is coming out on her body, Mrs Searles. You just need to keep her quiet and leave her to rest.'

‘She keeps crying all the time,' Alice said, feeling tired. ‘I know Danny had this when he was two but after the first day he was fine and I had a struggle to keep him indoors. The other two haven't had it yet.'

‘You will probably find they catch it this time,' the doctor told her. ‘I can give you a soothing lotion to smooth on her body, and you can give her a little of this medicine. Only a teaspoon in water, mind – and be careful not to give more than one dose every six hours.'

‘Will it ease her?' Alice asked anxiously. ‘She has always been one for crying right from birth. My other children were happier. I'm worried that she has something wrong with her.'

‘I assure you she is a perfectly healthy young lady.' Doctor Parks smiled. ‘Some children do cry more than others, and it is very worrying for the mother. You look worn out, Mrs Searles. I'll give you a tonic for yourself. It would do you good to get away for a bit of a break. Is there anyone who could look after the children for you?'

‘My sister-in-law would have the elder three, but I couldn't leave Sally; she cries if I'm gone for more than a few minutes.'

‘Perhaps that is because she knows you will pick her up. Sometimes it may be a good thing to let her cry it out – but that is up to you, of course.'

‘Frances told me I should let babies cry, but I've always worried that there might be something wrong. I don't want one of my children to die because I didn't notice he or she was ill.'

‘I am sure you would never do that.' Doctor Parks handed her a prescription. ‘Take this to the chemist, Mrs Searles, and come to see me again if you are still tired in a month's time.'

‘Thank you, Doctor.' Alice picked up Sally, who had stopped crying the minute the doctor had started to examine her and was now sucking her thumb, her eyes wide.

Daniel was waiting for her when she went out to the van. He jumped out and opened the door for her, looking anxious.

‘What did he say?'

‘Sally has chicken pox. He has given me some lotion to smooth on her skin and medicine – and he has given me a tonic. He says I need a break from the children . . .' Alice was thoughtful as Daniel took the baby while she got in and then put the child into her arms. ‘I was thinking that perhaps we should try to get away, Dan. I had another letter from Frances yesterday, asking us to go down. If Mary and Connor could manage the others, I would like to take Sally – when she is over the chicken pox, of course.'

‘Chicken pox.' Daniel frowned as he got into the driving seat. ‘Thank goodness it wasn't anything worse, love. I'll talk to Connor and you ask Mary, then I'll give Frances a ring.'

‘Yes, you do that. It's years since I saw the sea. I'm looking forward to it now, Dan.'

‘Good,' he said, and smiled.

Daniel had made up his mind that he couldn't tell Alice the truth. It would upset her too much, and if the doctor had given her a tonic, she was obviously under the weather. He would have to borrow the money, though he wouldn't give Maura as much as she wanted. If he borrowed from Frances, she wouldn't charge as much interest as the bank. He could pay that scheming bitch and perhaps finish off his loan at the bank – and then perhaps he could begin to save for the future.

Daniel would pay Frances back, of course, but perhaps she would let him repay over a long period. She was a rich woman and she wouldn't worry about lending him a thousand or two. It would cost him to ask, because he had always sworn he wouldn't, but he was at the end of his tether. If he didn't pay Maura something, she would tell Alice that he was the father of her son. He would see what kind of a mood Frances was in and if he felt able he would tell her he needed money to start a business.

In the meantime he would let Maura stew. If he left her long enough, she might just give up and go off somewhere . . .

Three

E
mily read the letter from Alice, her brow furrowing as she discovered that three of Alice's children were down with the chicken pox – and then Dan had taken it too.

 

He was the worst patient of them all. He was covered in spots and Doctor Parks thought he might have smallpox, but it wasn't and he is getting better at last. Connor had all the work to do, the milking and everything, but he got someone in to help and Dan is going to keep the lad on for a while. Now that he is feeling better we are taking Sally to stay with Frances for a week. Mary is having Danny, Jean and Rob to stay with her. Connor would have done his best to cope but it wouldn't be fair on him . . .

Emily laid her letter aside as the telephone shrilled. She was thinking what a rough time poor Alice had been having and wishing that Dan would bring all his family to her as she answered. ‘Emily Vane speaking . . .'

‘Lady Vane – Emily?' a man's deep voice said. ‘I'm sorry it has been such a long time. I always meant to keep in touch, but you know how it is – we lead such busy lives.'

‘Alan?' Emily was shocked as she heard the voice of Vane's cousin, but surprise was followed swiftly by guilt. ‘How are you? It must be two years since you last telephoned . . .'

‘Nearer three, I should think,' Alan said. ‘How are things with you? I expect you run the place seamlessly, carrying on the traditions in Vane's name.'

‘I do my best,' Emily laughed. ‘Like you, I'm busy, but I like that – don't you?'

‘I suppose I must or I wouldn't do it,' Alan said and his laugh was husky and warm. ‘Anyway, I've just pushed through a sale of some of my businesses, which will mean that I am going to have a little less to do in the immediate future. My doctor has told me that I should slow down – take a bit of a rest.'

‘I'm sorry. Nothing serious, I hope?'

‘I had a scare. A slight heart attack, they say. I am told that I was lucky and was warned to take things easier, which means I have to learn to delegate.'

‘I suppose we all have to do that in the end.'

‘Yes . . . well, I was wondering if I could come and stay for a few days? I have always found Vanbrough a peaceful place to be and it would be nice to see you and young Robert.'

‘Of course you can,' Emily said instantly. She sensed that he was lonely. He had married soon after Vane died but his wife had died in a car crash a few months later. The verdict of the inquest had been that she had been driving while under the influence of alcohol. ‘We would love to have you – and you can stay for as long as you wish.'

‘You are a love,' Alan said. ‘I'm not surprised Vane fell for you, Emily. Simon didn't deserve you. I was thinking of coming on a Saturday two weeks from now – if that will suit you?'

‘Yes, of course. I shall look forward to it.'

Emily smiled as she replaced the receiver. She enjoyed having visitors to Vanbrough. Her family didn't visit often enough for her liking, but she had quite a few friends who came for long weekends. She wouldn't invite anyone else while Alan was staying, though. He obviously needed some peace and quiet.

Emily smothered her feelings of guilt. Alan ought to have been Vane's heir, because neither she nor her son was blood-related – but Vane hadn't seen it that way. He had known that Emily would carry out his wishes for Vanbrough to the best of her ability. Alan had his own life. He was wealthy, a successful businessman, and although he had just confessed to thinking Vanbrough a peaceful place, he would probably not have had the time or the desire to devote his life to it as Emily had.

She reached out for the letter from Alice, wondering how Frances would feel about the impending visit. Frances had been a bit irritable when Emily paid her a flying visit a couple of weeks previously. She had looked tired and older, but when Emily suggested she take time off and come back to Vanbrough for an extended stay she had snapped her head off.

‘I have a hotel to run if you hadn't noticed. Just because you lead a life of leisure, it doesn't mean that we all can, Emily.'

‘That's ridiculous and you know it.' Emily felt annoyed because she had cancelled a charity meeting to make this visit to her sister. ‘I have as much and more to keep me busy as you do, Fran.'

‘Sitting on the board of charities and drinking coffee,' Frances scoffed. ‘You don't have to worry whether your bookings are up or down – or whether your suppliers are cheating you.'

‘Neither do you,' Emily replied. ‘You have staff to help you, just as I do – and you don't really need to work. You could sell this hotel and live off your investments.'

‘What would I do then? Sit staring at the wall and go off my head with boredom,' Frances retorted and then shook her head. ‘Sorry, Emily. I shouldn't take it out on you. I do miss you, you know.'

‘You could live with me if you wanted. I could find you something to do if you felt bored.'

‘I can't do that. Sometimes I wish I were there with you, but then I start to feel bitter and angry and I know it wouldn't be fair. I don't want you to suffer my moods.'

‘Oh Fran, can't you put it behind you? I know what Sam did to you was awful, but it is over now.'

‘It will never be over. I still have nightmares about being locked up somewhere . . .' Frances broke off. ‘I love you, Emily, but I don't want to live with you. I need my independence.'

‘You could have the dower house if you like. I'm going to do it up – as soon as I get the money together.'

‘Don't tell me you're short of money. You have thousands in pictures and silver – Vanbrough is a treasure house!'

‘Yes, but I don't own it – Robert doesn't either. It is a trust to be handed on to future generations.'

‘Rubbish,' Frances said. ‘Vane brainwashed you, Emily. If I were you, I should sell everything, invest the money and do something with your life. If you don't, you may wake up one day and find it is too late.'

‘Is something wrong, Frances?' Emily felt chilled as she saw the expression in her sister's eyes.

Frances got up and walked to look out of the window at the garden. The window was slightly open and the smell of roses wafted in on a slight breeze. Emily shivered suddenly, feeling the goose pimples rise.

‘No, nothing is wrong,' Frances said at last and turned to face Emily. ‘I just think you are wasting your life there . . .'

Emily had a vague feeling all was not well with her sister, but, whatever it was, Frances hadn't wanted to tell her. Emily hadn't pushed her, but now she was wondering if she ought to have asked more questions. Her hand strayed to the phone, hovering as she thought about ringing Frances, and then the door opened.

‘The Vicar is here, Lady Vane. He doesn't have an appointment but he says it is important.'