Illusions of Happiness (16 page)

But James hadn’t seemed to notice, saying easily, ‘Yes, of course, as often as we can.’

Mabel had returned followed by her maid carrying tea on a silver tray together with a plate of dainty biscuits. She placed it on the small round table standing between Mabel’s armchair and those of the guests and hurried away on being told, ‘Thank you, Susan. That will be all.’

They watched as Mabel poured, helping themselves to milk, sugar and biscuits. Beyond the window the continuing celebrations penetrated the quiet room as little more than a low murmur. James was first to break the silence.

‘So . . . Anthony, old chap, I expect we’ll soon be seeing you dashing around again, no doubt looking to find yourself a nice girl – unless of course you’ve already found someone.’

His voice was hearty, overloud, almost forced, and Madeleine shot a glance at him with an instant sense of guilt. What did he mean,
found
someone? Had he detected something in that possibly unguarded look which had passed so briefly between her and his nephew just a few moments ago? But Anthony was already answering him, his own tone easy.

‘I’m not intending to look, Uncle. If it happens, that’s fine, but I’m not ready to deliberately go seeking anyone, that’s for certain.’

To her ears it was a foolish thing to say. She cast a surreptitious glance towards her husband but he appeared to be satisfied and muttering an amiable, ‘Of course not,’ turned to his sister-in-law.

‘I’m so happy for you, my dear, having your son home safe – nothing worse than an injured leg, but it’s healing well, and not at all impairing his future.’

‘You cannot begin to imagine, James, how happy I am for that,’ she returned. Her tone was lighter than Madeleine had ever known. She sounded almost a new woman as she added brightly, ‘The Dear Lord has answered all my prayers.’

Leaning forward he patted her hand reassuringly then turned back to Anthony. ‘And you, my boy, will soon be returning to normal life, no doubt settling back into banking, hopefully putting these past four years behind you.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ Anthony said a little brusquely and lapsed into silence.

Again that faintly awkward atmosphere settled over the room. Madeleine and James drained their teacups and returned them to the tray together with their plates, biscuits untouched. Mabel continued taking minuscule sips from her own cup. She did not like steaming hot tea, preferring to drink hers lukewarm. Anthony had also drained his, now leaning over the arm of his chair to put the cup on the floor beside him.

As he did so, he looked towards Madeleine. The movement took her attention and as their glances met and held for a second, a meaningful look passed between them, almost tangible, Madeleine hurriedly looking away as she heard James say with a polite sigh, ‘Well, I suppose we’d best be going.’

‘You’ve been here barely half an hour,’ Mabel protested. ‘We shall be having dinner earlier than usual. Why not stay? We had lunch very early, well before one o’clock chimed the commencement of the official Victory celebrations – we didn’t want to be eating then, so dinner will be a little earlier. Do stay.’

But James seemed to have made up his mind, leaving Madeleine to ponder if he’d noticed the look that had passed between her and Anthony, reading something into it.

‘We merely came to see how you were on this special day, my dear,’ he was saying. ‘Make sure you’re not feeling down you might say. I’m glad to find you both so cheery but I do have some work I need to finish ready for tomorrow.’

‘Well, then if you must,’ she said somewhat begrudgingly. ‘Though how you can think of working on a day such as this . . .’

‘Life goes on,’ he cut in with a small laugh. ‘Perhaps we can take up your offer, my dear, not tomorrow but Sunday, when I have more time. And now we really must be away,’ he added as she nodded her acceptance of the arrangement. ‘And I am so glad to find you well, my dear, you too, Anthony.’

Madeleine too wanted to be away. She could feel herself trembling inside from the look that had passed between her and Anthony, such a depth of meaning that if James had been looking in their direction, which she fervently hoped he hadn’t, he couldn’t have helped but notice.

Without daring to look back at Anthony she quickly followed James out to the hall, his sister-in-law accompanying them, cheerfully bidding them goodbye as they donned their hats and coats and left.

‘I thought Anthony looked very well,’ James said as they drove off, the crowds still clogging the roads. ‘You did too, didn’t you, my dear?’

Nerves still raw from the way Anthony had looked at her as he placed his cup down beside him, she felt herself reading more into those last few words than maybe she should have
and cringed inwardly but managed to answer in a small voice, ‘Yes, dear, I did.’

Left wondering just how much he was aware of the feelings between Anthony and her, she found herself reading all sorts of innuendos into almost everything James said when speaking to her. It made her wish they were not going there on Sunday. She wanted so much to see him, the next day seeming to drag, yet there was fear. He would undoubtedly look at her in the way he’d done yesterday. If their eyes met she was sure she would betray herself. If James didn’t know now what was going on, he soon would if this continued.

The best solution would be to cry off going there tomorrow altogether but the thought of not seeing him so tore at her that she found herself counting the hours, willing them to pass, at the same time dreading their passing until she wasn’t sure what she wanted, her mind in turmoil.

Being driven through the Sunday streets, the November afternoon dull and overcast with daylight seeming already to be fading to an early evening and everywhere strangely deserted after the jubilations on Friday, she remained quiet, hoping James wouldn’t notice the turmoil inside her which she was sure must be showing on her face.

It had been suggested they come to dinner but James having a need to work that evening in readiness for Monday morning, it had been arranged they come to Sunday lunch instead. The nearer they got to Mabel’s home the more Madeleine’s agitation increased, her mind repeatedly asking what if hers and Anthony’s glances met the way they had on Friday? Yet to avoid his gaze altogether, would it not leave him wondering what he’d done to upset her? Over and over she wished with all her heart that she’d concocted an excuse not to go – a headache, over-tiredness, feign the onset of a cold perhaps? Yet she knew she couldn’t have kept away.

But it wasn’t as she’d expected. He hardly looked at her, his greeting when they arrived almost offhanded, avoiding her eyes as they sat across the table from each other. He hardly spoke the whole time, his mother doing all the talking, a totally different woman to the desperate one of six months back. And as they retired to the sitting room to relax after the meal, he seemed preoccupied, hardly joining in the general conversation and to Madeleine’s mind, totally ignoring her.

‘James,’ Mabel said suddenly, breaking through the conversation the two of them were enjoying while Madeleine also sat quiet and withdrawn, ‘before it gets totally dark, there’s something I’d like to show you in the garden that my gardener pointed out. I’d like your opinion. It won’t take long. I didn’t tell you, Anthony dear, but you and Madeleine might like to see it. It’s quite unusual and very pretty.’

He hardly glanced up, his reply curt. ‘No thanks. I need to take it easy, too much on my feet this morning.’

‘Yes of course, dear, as you wish,’ his mother said easily, glancing questioningly towards her young sister-in-law.

Madeleine knew she ought to go with them, but heard herself saying, ‘I think I’d rather stay here in the warm.’

‘Yes, it’s a little cold, dear. Stay and keep Anthony company.’

The door closed behind the two older people, with Madeleine already at a loss what to talk to him about, as he was behaving so morosely. He rose from his armchair – someone a moment ago too weary to move – and came towards her.

Hardly knowing why, she also got up, something inside her sensing that she needed to. Next moment she was in his arms, his lips pressing almost savagely on hers. Desperately she returned the kiss, her hand reaching up behind his head the better to keep his lips pressed on hers. His hand was on her breast, she felt its warmth through her blouse and silk jumper, even through the thin material of her fashionably loose bodice. Her head reeling, her insides churning, all she wanted was for him not to stop, to go further, go further.

Suddenly he released her, stepping back although his hand had now taken hold of hers in a tight grip. She half expected him to say sorry. Instead he whispered huskily, ‘They’ll be back any minute. But I will sort something out, darling.’

They were back in their seats, Madeleine desperately striving to compose herself, when Mabel entered the room, chattering away, closely followed by James. He glanced at Madeleine.

‘Just as well you remained here in the warm, my dear. It’s very cold out there which is why we came back quicker than expected.’ Again a veiled remark or so it seemed. Her guilt screamed at her.

She forced a smile, turning her attention to Mabel. ‘What was it you had to show James?’

‘A most oddly shaped branch now that most of the leaves have fallen. I never noticed it until it was pointed out to me. Seen from a certain angle, it appears exactly like an owl is staring down at one. It could be quite eerie if one were alone out there in the half light. The sky has cleared and what with the twilight glow, it is quite noticeable. But I have to agree with James, it is so very cold out there. We shall no doubt have a frost by morning.’

While she was chatting away, James nodding in agreement to her words, Madeleine stole a furtive glance at Anthony who returned it with a warning one of his own and a hardly perceptible shake of his head. She looked away just as James turned to her.

‘I expect you two have been keeping each other company. Not bored?’

There it was again, an oblique hint letting it be known that he knew more that he was saying.

‘You weren’t gone long enough for us to get bored,’ she managed to reply, wishing her heart would stop its rapid thumping, sure that he could hear it.

Life had become bliss, dangerous but bliss. Two weeks before Christmas, Anthony, or Tony as she now called him when they were alone, had indeed found them somewhere to meet – an inauspicious little hotel a relatively safe distance from his home and a short walk from the small private bank his father had owned, where he’d shortly be taking his father’s place now the war was over. It was ideal.

It was now well into February. They’d been meeting here once a week for the last six weeks, yet she still felt that rush of excitement in the pit of her stomach as she approached the hotel’s modest entrance. So different to the feeling she’d had that first time.

Then she had slowed her steps as she neared the place, doubts so clogging her insides that she had almost turned back the way she’d come. It had been an effort to approach the small reception desk, sure that the young clerk standing behind it would take her for a street walker and turn her away. But he couldn’t have been more polite had she been a titled lady. Even so, having to ask for Tony by name was an effort, somehow strangely unsavoury as though the clerk knew what the two of them were about.

But hardly had Tony’s name left her lips when someone had leapt up from a nearby armchair, his voice loud and cheery.

‘Maddie! Here at last. What sort of journey was it? Pretty delayed by the sound of it. How is you mother, Aunt Beatrice?’

Madeleine had instantly taken her cue from him, making her own voice as cheery and innocuous as his. ‘She’s very well and sends her love.’

His arm threaded itself through hers as he led her to the lift without a backward glance at the hotel clerk. Yanking aside the gate, he had stepped back to allow her in, then followed, dragging the gate to and pressing the button. The ground floor seemed to sink below them as the lift rose.

When they stopped at the first floor, the corridor beyond had been silent and deserted. He pulled back the gate but instead of helping her out, took hold of her, brought her close, his lips closing on hers. They seemed to stand there forever before finally moving apart. He took her hand, leading her from the lift. Neither spoke as he led her to a door a few yards along the corridor.

In silence he took the key from his pocket and unlocked the door, allowing her to precede him. He followed, closing the door behind them very quietly, not one word having passed between them. Still without speaking, he had kissed her again and, as moments before, with neither of them breaking apart he’d manoeuvred her towards the narrow bed just a few steps away and laid her down, gently lowering himself beside her at the same time. It was almost skilful.

Only then did his lips leave hers for him to lift himself the easier to undo the buttons of her thick coat, her blouse, easing the edges apart, lifting her breasts above the loose top of her bodice, lowering his face to them to take a nipple into his mouth. She had let it happen, joy overflowing with the sensation, the first time he had been so close to her, almost a part of her; so wonderful, she was hardly aware of her top clothing and nether garments being removed, his too, until she felt him enter her, an overwhelming moment of two becoming as one; his breath close to her ear, her own sighing, then gasping, the world whirling about her.

It was over too soon. Lying satiated side by side on the narrow single bed they’d gazed up at the ceiling. It was yellow with old cigarette smoke and slightly uneven in places, the lamp shade not the newest of objects, but the room itself clean and nicely furnished. Strange now to remember that.

As normality moved slowly back into place, he had turned his face to her. ‘Are you OK?’ he’d asked and she had nodded.

Then had come the memory of an old barn, she lying utterly fulfilled beside the man who’d taken his fill of her, believing him as much in love with her as she with him. The recollection had dragged an involuntary tremulous sigh from her, making Anthony look at her, filled with concern.