Deborah told him of the increasing number of applications, and of the recent one from Danny Wilson. ‘An honest, hard-working man, with an invalid wife and five children. Fortunately, I’ve placed him, and it is instances like that, Theo, which give me such satisfaction. But what comes over from people is bewilderment. Mine too, if it comes to that. Nine million people withdraw their labour in support of their fellow man, which says much about the nobility of the working classes. And the government give not an inch?’ Her voice rose with indignation. ‘So where does that leave the miners?’

  ‘Exactly as they were before, poorly paid and overworked.’ Theo’s tone was bitter. ‘I hate injustice, Deborah, and nor do I enjoy being frustrated in my efforts to ameliorate it. The problem is that so many MPs hold entrenched views. The opinion was that to allow people to defy their government, for it to concede to their demands, would create a dangerous precedent. And always there hung in the air the threat, imagined or otherwise, of it turning into a workers’ revolution, one involving violence.’ He gave a shrug. ‘I am not sure myself how the mine owners won round the TUC, but I suspect they both shared a fear that if the strike went on too long, the country’s economy would suffer.’

  Deborah gazed at him. ‘Do you think the miners are right to hold out?’

  ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures, and what choice do they have? But if you are asking me whether their struggle will be successful, then I doubt it very much.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘As I warned you, I have a committee meeting in the House first thing tomorrow.’

  She nodded, and then reached over the table to take his hand in hers. ‘Theo, thank you so much for understanding.’

  He smiled. ‘I hope, Deborah, that I’ll be able to show understanding about anything that’s important to you.’

  After a moment’s silence, she said, ‘You’re a wonderful man, do you know that?’

  ‘And you, my darling, are rapidly becoming the light of my life.’

  Although as Theo drove her back to Grosvenor Square, there was still uncertainty in her mind. Theo would never reveal her secret, aware of the scandal it would cause in their social circle. But would Sarah Boot be able to understand that?

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The following week Deborah received another letter from her friend, Abigail. It was short, but one she read with increasing pleasure.

  Dear Debs,

  We have been forced to change our plans. We are still coming down, in fact setting out tomorrow, but as both of Angus’s parents are suffering from influenza, we have decided to visit the London house first. I shall telephone you once we’re rested from the journey. I can’t wait to hear all your news,

  Much love,

  Abby xx

  As Deborah had expected, within forty-eight hours of the family’s rest period after the long journey, Abigail, minus Angus, but plus two excited little girls, was making herself at home at Grosvenor Square. In Deborah’s sitting room, the twins flung themselves at Deborah for a hug, while she laughed saying, ‘Good heavens, you’re getting so tall!’

  ‘I’m the tallest,’ Morag declared.

  ‘No, you’re not, I am.’ Fiona gave her sister a push.

  ‘Now then, girls, I’ve told you that there’s scarcely anything between you.’ Abigail smiled at her friend. ‘Total horrors, aren’t they? Thank heaven they have a nanny.’

  Deborah laughed. ‘You know you adore them. And they’re the image of you.’

  ‘They’ve certainly got my blonde hair.’

  ‘But Papa’s eyes.’ The twins spoke together, causing Deborah to laugh yet again.

  ‘Well, I think you’re both enchanting. And I love your sailor dresses.’

  The two little girls preened themselves, then looked at her expectantly.

  Deborah deliberately made them wait a few seconds, then whispered, ‘Try looking behind the chair your mama is sitting on.’

  With one accord they dashed to see, and a squeal went up as their present was found. ‘Look,’ Morag went to show Abigail. ‘A skipping rope.’

  ‘And you’ve got different colour handles, red and blue,’ Abigail said. ‘Clever Aunt Deborah!’

  ‘Can we play with them now?’ Again both spoke together.

  ‘Later, when we go out,’ Deborah promised. ‘But for now, if you go with Ellen to see Cook, I think she may, just may, have a treat for you.’

  ‘And only if you’re good,’ Abigail called after them.

  The two young women began to relax, with Deborah saying, ‘Abby, they’re delightful.’

  ‘Thanks, Debs.’

  ‘So, how are you? Still living in married bliss?’

  Abby laughed. ‘I suppose you could call it that. If you’re asking if I’m happy, then my answer is yes. Not that Angus can’t be difficult at times, but tell me a man who isn’t. And I don’t suppose I’m perfect. But he was the right choice, which is a miracle when you think how young I was, and we hadn’t known each other for very long.’

  ‘Everything was different then, though, because of the war. People had to snatch happiness wherever they could.’

  ‘It was such a pity that you couldn’t be at our wedding. Still, I suppose you couldn’t help being stricken with pneumonia when you were miles away, visiting your Aunt Blanche.’

  ‘At least I saw her again, before she died.’ Deborah turned away, indicating a display of pink roses on her desk. ‘These came this morning from Theo.’

  ‘They’re lovely. I can’t wait to meet him. Is he “the one”, Debs?’ She laughed. ‘I can see by the way your face lights up, that he could be.’

  ‘He hasn’t proposed yet. But I am going down to Wiltshire to meet his father at the end of the month.’

  ‘And if he pops the question there?’

  Deborah smiled. ‘What do you think?’ And then she couldn’t help frowning as she thought of Evan.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘As perceptive as ever! Now you’re going to think I’m mad, but …’

  ‘Why?’

  Deborah told her how, when coming back from Paris, she had seen Evan on the train, then heard him speak at Battersea. She paused. Could she, should she tell her best friend about the ugly scene in the alley? Deborah knew that several weeks ago her distress would have made it impossible for her to do so. Suddenly the temptation was overwhelming. ‘He also rescued me from being raped.’

  ‘What!’ Abigail stared at her in horror. She listened as Deborah recounted what had happened.

  ‘Good grief, Debs, what a terrible thing to happen.’

  ‘You’re the only person I’ve ever told about it. So you won’t …’

  ‘Of course not. I can understand your not wanting people to know. So what happened with this Evan, afterwards I mean?’

  ‘He took me to a tea shop, and we talked for a bit, and since then he’s become a client at the agency.’ Deborah paused. How could she explain something when she was mystified by it herself? ‘There’s something between us, Abby, and I’m sure he feels it too. Yet when I’m with Theo, I’m so sure that I love him. But what is tormenting me is how can I then feel attracted to someone else?’

  ‘Easily,’ Abigail said promptly. ‘People do it all the time. You know yourself of marriages where either the husband or wife, or both in some cases, cast longing looks at other people. They don’t necessarily do anything about it.’

  ‘Yes, but that’s usually after years together, when familiarity can become boring. Not in the early stages of love, surely?’

  ‘You say that he’s working class?’

  Deborah nodded.

  ‘You don’t think it’s just that “you fancy a bit of rough”, as they say.’

  ‘Abigail!’

  She tossed her head. ‘Well, it has been known. In fact, just between you and me, there was a ghillie on our estate a couple of years ago. And honestly, Debs, I found myself thinking about him at the most odd times.’

  ‘Did you have conversations with him?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, nothing like that. I kept well away. But it was his physique! Angus, as you know, has quite a slight build, and one couldn’t help wondering …’

  Deborah exploded into laughter. ‘You’re making it up, just to make me feel better.’

  ‘I’m not! Anyway, he only stayed with us a matter of months. I was rather glad to see him go, to be honest.’

  There was a noise at the door as the twins burst in, with Ellen following. ‘Cook made us little iced buns with our names on them, Mama.’

  ‘Oh yes, and how many did you have?’

  ‘All of them, two each!’

  Deborah got up and went to look out of the window. ‘It’s a lovely day out there. Would you like to go to Hyde Park?’

  ‘Yess …’ They rushed to pick up their skipping ropes.

  ‘Ellen, would you mind taking them to wash their hands first?’ Abigail said.

  ‘Not at all, my lady.’

  In Greenwich, Bronwen was slicing a large crusty loaf. ‘I’ll make us cheese and pickle sandwiches,’ she called through to Evan, who was relaxing in an armchair in the front room.

  ‘Can you pack some celery as well?’

  ‘Yes, if you pull one up and wash it.’

  Evan grinned, knowing it was his aunt’s least favourite job, understandable as an old nailbrush was needed to scrub off the outside soil, not to mention parting the stalks to be rinsed. The small patch of earth behind the house was invaluable in supplying them with some, if not all, of their vegetables. He knew Bronwen would have loved to grow flowers, but had to content herself with a cheap bunch off a market stall marked down at the end of the day.

  He was relishing having a whole Saturday off. The Colonel’s batman, who left his service because of illness, had returned for just the weekend to help the Colonel to bathe, shave and wear his full dress uniform in readiness for his regiment’s annual reunion.

  As he passed through the scullery on his way out to the tiny garden, Bronwen was boiling a kettle to make a flask of tea. ‘We’ll take a Thermos as well.’

  ‘And some fruit cake?’

  She nodded. ‘We don’t have a picnic that often, so I intend to make the most of it.’

  Half an hour later, they were ready to set off, with Evan carrying a small wicker picnic basket, which had been a retirement present to Bronwen’s late husband.

  ‘It’s not too heavy, now?’

  ‘If you’re not careful, I’ll carry you as well!’ He smiled down at her, feeling in a good mood. He always liked being out in the fresh air. Hyde Park would attract many others on such a sunny day but that was fine with Evan, it always lifted his spirits to see people enjoying themselves. And he owed Aunt Bronwen this day out, although he planned to spend the evening in convivial male company. Evan had never been a heavy drinker, but enjoyed a couple of beers as much as the next man. And the fact that he also had Sunday off, meant that tomorrow he could help out at a local soup kitchen. Bronwen usually did her best to help too, her sharp humour often raising a smile on the most downcast faces.

  At first they just strolled around, with sunlight flickering through the leaves on the trees, families enjoying the sunshine, nannies wheeling perambulators, and excited dogs barking. Evan took a kick at a ball that was rolling away from a small boy, and Bronwen laughed at him. ‘Let’s go and see the horses in Rotten Row, and then find a good picnic spot. I shall need a bench to sit on, though. Gone are the days when I could sit on the grass. Well, I could sit on it, it’s getting up would be the problem.’

  He’d always liked horses, although when he lived in Wales, he’d hated to think of the poor pit ponies, confined underground in the mines. Not to eat fresh grass, or breathe in clean crisp air, it went against nature. But the horses they were seeing here were well fed and groomed, although he suspected that Bronwen was just as interested in the fashionable people riding them.

  It was when he was admiring a glossy black stallion, expertly controlled by its male rider, that the two little girls with sailor collars skipped towards him. They were obviously having a race and smilingly he moved out of their way. Only then did he see the two young women who were accompanying them …

  Abigail must have heard Deborah’s sharp intake of breath because she swiftly took her friend’s arm. ‘Debs?’

  ‘It’s Evan Morgan …’ She began to slow down and releasing her arm, a curious Abigail followed suit.

  When they came face to face, Deborah felt her face flush a little as she saw the warmth in Evan’s eyes. ‘This is unexpected, Evan.’

  He smiled, ‘Yes, it is. How are you, Deborah?’

  ‘I’m very well, thank you.’

  He turned to the slightly built woman by his side. ‘This is Miss Claremont, Aunt Bronwen. If you remember, I mentioned her to you. Deborah − this is my aunt, Mrs Clarke.’

  Bronwen held out her cotton-gloved hand to be shaken. ‘How do you do, Miss Claremont? It’s nice to put a face to the name.’

  Deborah smiled and introduced Abigail, ignoring her raised eyebrows when her correct title wasn’t used.

  Bronwen said, ‘I imagine, Mrs Munro, that those two little imps who were skipping, belong to you?’

  ‘Heavens, yes, I must see where they’ve gone.’ She began to hurry ahead.

  ‘How is the job progressing?’ Deborah asked Evan.

  ‘It’s working out well, although I’ve yet to discover why the Colonel needs my engineering expertise.’

  ‘I have no idea either, but I’m sure all will be revealed eventually.’

  Evan smiled at her, and the momentary silence was broken by Bronwen. ‘It’s certainly a lovely day.’

  ‘That’s what we thought,’ Deborah said. ‘It seemed a pity to keep the children indoors.’

  Young voices reached them as the children returned, shepherded by their mother.

  Bronwen smiled down at them. ‘And how old are you two?’ she asked the identical twins.

  ‘Six and a half,’ they chorused.

  ‘I’m Morag …’

  ‘And I’m Fiona.’

  ‘What lovely names. Now let me guess, were you born in Scotland?’

  They both nodded, giggling.

  ‘And I was born in Wales.’ She turned to Evan. ‘Well, we mustn’t delay these good people any longer. You’ve already carried that picnic basket too long.’

  ‘A picnic!’ Morag began to jump up and down. ‘Can we join them, Mama, can we, please?’

  ‘Of course we can’t,’ Fiona told her. ‘Cook told us she was making a special luncheon for us. And we’re to eat in the dining room.’ The last few words were pronounced with self-importance.

  Deborah laughed. ‘That’s true, and we ought to return.’ But her gaze was on Evan, and he held it for one long moment, before she said, ‘It was lovely to meet you, Mrs Clarke, and to see you, Evan. Enjoy the rest of your day.’

  It took another fifteen minutes of seeking a suitable spot to have their picnic before Bronwen declared herself satisfied with an empty bench under a tree with spreading branches. ‘Shady and quiet,’ she said, and as they sat with the wicker basket between them began to unpack their food. The bread was crusty and fresh, the cheddar cheese had a sharp tang, the celery was crisp, and Bronwen’s home-made fruit cake delicious. Evan, who had expected comments from his aunt about the people she had just met, was surprised that she was so quiet. Instead, there was only the sound of birds chirping in the branches above, and the sound of a bat and ball nearby to disturb their peace. It was only when Bronwen had poured their tea from the flask that the atmosphere changed.

  She handed Evan his drink, then squaring her shoulders said, ‘You and I, boyo, have some serious talking to do.’

  Chapter Thirty

  Evan remained silent until he had finished his drink, then turned to his aunt. ‘That sounds a bit ominous.’

  Bronwen gazed at him, anxiety in her eyes. ‘You could say that.’ She hesitated.

  ‘What’s wrong, Aunt Bron?’

  She took a deep breath. ‘It’s this Miss Claremont … Didn’t you tell me that she ran the staff agency, the one you applied to for a job?’

  ‘Yes, she does.’

  ‘And that you first met her when her hat blew off?’

  He nodded.

  ‘What sort of hat was it? Like the one she was wearing today?’

  Evan frowned, remembering how lovely Deborah had looked in a blue velvet cloche. ‘Not really, it was just a hat, I suppose. I think it had a small brim.’

  ‘Not the sort of hat that a lady of quality would wear?’

  He laughed. ‘I don’t know any ladies of quality.’

  ‘You’ve got eyes in your head, you know what I mean.’

  Slowly he shook his head. ‘No, I suppose not.’

  ‘So when you met her, what did you think was her background?’

  ‘A step up from mine, that was for sure.’

  Bronwen persisted. ‘And if today had been the first time you’d seen her?’

  An image came into Evan’s mind, not only one of a stylishly dressed Deborah but also her fashionable friend and the sailor dresses of the children. Slowly he said, ‘I’m beginning to see what you mean.’

  Bronwen hesitated. ‘Miss Claremont is a very attractive young woman. I can understand why you’re smitten. There’s no use denying it, any fool could see you were attracted to each other.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but I rather think my personal life is my own business.’

  ‘And, ordinarily, I’d agree with you. But I can’t stand by and see you get hurt.’

  ‘And what makes you so sure that I will be? Lots of people marry out of their class. Not that I know Deborah well enough even to think that far ahead, but …’

  Bronwen was shaking her head. ‘Yes, I know, but it’s usually within reason. And sometimes, just sometimes, it can work out. But with your Miss Claremont, it would be an entirely different kettle of fish. Evan, I worked in a posh haberdashery shop for years and used to handle all sorts of fabrics. I could tell you the price of cloth just by looking at it.’ She paused, ‘I also know haute couture when I see it.’

 

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