The Colours of Love (31 page)

Caleb was delighted. Not only by Joy’s total acceptance of him, but by the way it had got under Monty’s skin. That was petty and beneath him, but he didn’t care, he thought, as he helped the child to wind strands of tinsel around the sweet-smelling little tree. He had known immediately who it was standing in the doorway, even before anyone had spoken, and perhaps not surprisingly he had disliked Monty on sight. The handsome face under a shock of blond hair, the impeccable and expensive clothes, and the air of ownership regarding Esther and Joy had made him want to punch the man on the nose. And – and here he admitted to a feeling of shame – having seen Monty, he was frightened of Esther’s husband. Not of the man himself, never that, but of Esther’s feelings towards him. She had loved him once, heart, soul and body; and, looking at the man, Caleb could see that Esther and Monty had fitted together very well. They were of the same class, they had had privileged upbringings with everything that entailed, they spoke in the same way – oh, a hundred things, he thought wretchedly, as he handed Joy a pretty bauble for the tree. And what was he, in comparison? Nothing. He must have been mad to come here today, hoping for . . .

What? he asked himself. What had he been hoping for? He didn’t really know. What he did know was that he couldn’t have let another month, another week, another day go by without seeing Esther, and Christmas had provided the perfect excuse for his visit. Hell, he didn’t know which way was up, and that was the truth of it. As his mam had said only the other day, when he’d sat morosely staring into the fire after his evening meal, he’d end up in the loony bin over Esther.

It didn’t take long to decorate the tree, with everyone helping – everyone, that is, but Monty, who sat on the perimeter of the group. Once it had been completed, the farmer made it clear there was work to be done, Christmas Eve or no Christmas Eve, and the rest of the girls, along with the farmer and his wife and Rose, went in various directions. Priscilla made a point of wishing Caleb a merry Christmas and giving him an affectionate peck on the cheek, her leave-taking of Monty being altogether less warm.

Rose, on the other hand, completely ignored Caleb before she left to help Nancy in the dairy, to the point where she was positively rude, causing the farmer’s wife – who thoroughly disapproved of Rose’s conduct – to make more of a fuss of Caleb that she would normally have done. It was all awkward and uncomfortable, and even Priscilla was glad to get out of the farmhouse and leave Esther alone with the two men and the child.

As the door closed behind them, it was Caleb who broke the silence because he had decided he was blowed if he would allow Monty to intimidate him with his air of superiority; an air that even Caleb, in his irritation, recognized was natural on the other man’s part. But that only made it worse. Staring straight at Monty, he said, ‘So how are you finding civilian life? Takes a bit of getting back into, doesn’t it.’

Monty’s gaze was ice-cold, but he allowed none of the anger seething under his cool exterior to come through in his voice as he said, ‘Not at all. I work with Esther’s father in the family business.’

‘He is not my father.’ Esther’s body was taut, her face set. ‘And I’ve asked you not to refer to him as such.’

‘Really, darling, this is not the time or place to discuss such things.’

‘I disagree.’ Esther had reached boiling point. She knew exactly what Monty was doing, and had done from the moment he had stepped into the house. His attitude, and every word he’d spoken, laid claim to her and Joy and, in so doing, stated that Caleb had no right to be here. ‘It just so happens that Caleb’s a good friend of mine and we have no secrets. And I am not your darling.’

‘I see.’

‘I doubt it.’ There was the slightest pause before Esther bent down and lifted Joy, who was playing with an empty cardboard box and a strand of tinsel near the tree, into her arms. ‘Please leave, Monty. I’ve asked you time and time again not to come here, and you know I mean it, so this is purely your fault.’

Monty had flushed a deep red. ‘How long has it been going on? With him?’ He was speaking to Esther but he was looking at Caleb, their eyes locked in mutual hate.

As Caleb took a step towards Monty, his fists clenched, and Esther said, ‘Please, Caleb, no,’ there was a cheerful toot-toot-toot from the yard outside. For a moment Caleb’s gaze remained on Monty, and it was only Esther whispering, ‘Caleb, please, it’s Christmas Eve; think of Joy. Your . . . your friend’s here to pick you up, I think,’ that broke the deadlock. She took his arm. ‘I’ll come with you.’

They left Monty staring after them, but once outside Caleb muttered, ‘I should have hit him. Damn it, I should have knocked his smug block off.’

‘Not in front of Joy.’

‘No . . . ’ He shook his head, as though to clear his thoughts, then reached out and ruffled the little girl’s curls. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come.’

‘Don’t say that.’

The odd snowflake or two was still drifting aimlessly in the bitterly cold air, scouts for the rest of the pack in the laden sky and, as one landed on Esther’s nose, Joy giggled. ‘Fairy, Mummy. Fairy.’

‘She insists on calling them that: ice-fairies,’ Esther said softly, not knowing what to say to put things right between them. But she didn’t want Caleb to leave like this.

He looked at mother and child, both so beautiful that they caused a physical ache in his chest. Turning, he raised an arm to his friend, who was revving the engine of the car. ‘He wants to go – I can’t keep him waiting.’

‘No, of course not.’ Summoning all her courage, she said, ‘I know it’s been awkward for you, with Monty, and I’m sorry about that, but . . . but I’m glad you came, Caleb. It’s made Joy’s Christmas.’ She took a deep breath. ‘And mine.’

‘Do you mean that?’ He felt so downcast that he didn’t care if he was going to make a fool of himself. He couldn’t carry on like this; his mam was right. He had to know if there was ever going to be any hope for him. He’d wait for her – a lifetime, if that’s what it took – but he had to know that she didn’t look on him as just a friend and nothing else, because that wasn’t enough. Not having seen Monty, and knowing he was still sniffing about. ‘I mean,
really
mean it, Esther?’

Her heart was thudding so hard she was sure he must be able to hear it, as she read what was in his face. He cared about her, in
that
way, she thought wondrously. For a moment a rush of fear and panic – about daring to trust someone again with her love – caught her breath in her throat, but then she continued to hold Caleb’s steady gaze. As she searched his rough, rugged features she saw what she needed to see. ‘With all my heart,’ she whispered with a tremulous smile.

There was no answering smile on his face, but he touched her cheek. ‘That’s all I wanted to know. I know there are things to sort out’ – he glanced back to the farmhouse for a moment – ‘but I can wait. I just needed to know that you wanted me to wait.’

Like Caleb, Esther knew this was a time to cast away pride. ‘More than anything else in the world, but . . . but you do understand what it would mean? If . . . if we married and there were children? I mean’ – she stared at him helplessly – ‘you know what I mean.’

For her to talk about the future like this was beyond his wildest expectations. Softly, a smile touching his lips, he said, ‘If you’re trying to say that, with me as a father, they wouldn’t all be as beautiful as Joy, then I can live with that.’

‘Caleb.’ Her lips trembled and pressed together for a moment before she continued, ‘It’s important you face it now.’

His face losing its tender smile, he forgot all his promises to himself to take things slowly and, careless of the man in the farmhouse or anyone else who might see them, took Esther in his arms, so that she and Joy were enfolded against him. ‘Let’s get one thing straight,’ he said very quietly, above the silk of her hair as she rested against him. ‘You are a beautiful, desirable, incredible woman that any man would be proud to call his own. And you are unique, as we all are. I don’t know why you would even consider looking twice at a man like me, but I will love you and Joy – and any little ones we might have – till the day I die, and beyond. When you are free and I can ask you to marry me, I shall tell you this again; but until then, will you hold it in your heart and believe me? That man in there is the biggest fool in history. He had a pearl of great price and he threw it away. Two pearls of great price,’ he added softly, reaching for Joy and lifting her out of Esther’s arms into his own. He smiled down at the little girl, who beamed back at him. ‘I’ve got to go now, hinny, but you look after your mam for me, all right? She needs a lot of love.’

Still holding Joy, he bent his head and kissed Esther. It was a sweet, fleeting kiss, their first. Tasting the salt of her tears, Caleb murmured, ‘One more promise, sweetheart. I will never make you cry again. We’ll be as poor as church mice, no doubt, but as far as it is within my power to do so, I will make you happy.’

Placing Joy tenderly in her arms, he stroked Esther’s face one last time and then turned and walked to the car. His shoulders were straighter than they had been since the morning he had woken up in a military hospital and learned they had cut off his leg to save his life.

Monty had been watching them the whole time, and now, as Esther continued to stand in the middle of the yard, her gaze following the car winding its way down the farm track, he ground his teeth together in fury. She was shameless, behaving like that, as though she were a single woman and fancy-free. And with
him
, as rough-and-ready a type as he’d ever laid eyes on. He could scarcely believe Esther would sink so low. He saw it all now: this fellow was the reason she wouldn’t come back to him. Why had he never thought she might have found someone else?

The answer came as though someone had spoken it out loud. Because, at the bottom of him, he’d never doubted that if he wanted her back she would eventually agree – after a suitable period of punishing him, of course. In returning to him, Esther had everything to gain, besides which he knew how she had loved him when they’d married, and before. She had never made a secret of her feelings, not like some girls would have. It wasn’t in Esther to play the coquette and lead a man on.

The sudden memory of how it had been in the early days caused his shoulders to slump, his body deflating, and in the place of outrage came a wave of loss and despair. He hated his life, he thought bitterly. He hated being at Theobald’s beck and call twenty-four hours a day. He couldn’t stand the prospect of another winter under his father-in-law’s roof, with the long, cold nights seeming to stretch on forever. And Esther, betraying him like this: how could she take her marriage vows so lightly?

It didn’t occur to Monty that he had slept with several women after he had walked out on her, and if someone had pointed the fact out to him and had accused him of being a hypocrite, he would have strenuously denied the charge. As far as he was concerned, none of his affairs had meant anything and so they didn’t matter; besides which, men behaved that way, with the stress of war. It was acceptable, even expected. But with women it was different.

The door opened and Esther entered the house, but Joy was no longer with her. Esther had taken the child through to the dairy and left her with Rose and the farmer’s wife while she said what she had to say to Monty.

Monty got in first. His voice scathing, he bit out, ‘I can’t believe you’ve encouraged the attentions of that fellow. He’s not of our class, and it does not become you.’

Esther stared at him. At this moment she was seeing him as he really was. The rose-coloured glasses were not only off now, but were smashed into a hundred pieces. She felt no anger or sorrow about the end of their marriage; merely painful regret that Joy had such a man for a father. Her precious baby deserved better. Certainly a father who loved her exactly as she was. Quietly she said, ‘On the day that Joy was born, I accused you of being ashamed of her – and of me – and you couldn’t deny it. And the next day, when you had had time to consider your actions, you proposed that if I agreed to our baby being taken away and brought up goodness knows where, and if I had an operation to prevent the conception of more children, you would do me the great honour of continuing to be my husband. When you talk of us getting back together again and living as man and wife, does that mean you will acknowledge Joy as your daughter, and that you would welcome further children?’

He stared at her, taken aback at her directness, his Adam’s apple moving up and down as he swallowed hard.

‘I thought not.’ And as he went to speak, she said, ‘No, don’t say anything, Monty, and certainly don’t lie. It didn’t need thinking about.’

Neither of them spoke for a moment and then Monty muttered, ‘I do love you. I want you to know that. I always will.’

But not enough; not nearly enough. True love was open and unconditional. Gently she said, ‘You loved the old Esther, Monty, the one you knew before Joy was born. She doesn’t exist now. You could say I have grown up, I suppose, because when I look back now, I realize how young I was.’

‘You’re young now.’

She would never be young again, and she didn’t fool herself that the road ahead was going to be easy, even with Caleb at her side. People were cruel, and she didn’t mind that for herself, but she knew she was going to suffer as any mother would when spiteful talk hurt her child. Not only that, but if she and Caleb got married and had children, it would be the same for them too. But the alternative – of hiding away, of having no more children, of letting the bigots and mean-minded win – was not an option.

‘Are you going to him?’ Monty asked stiffly.

She sighed. ‘What does it matter?’

‘It matters to me, damn it. I won’t give you a divorce, Esther. I told you that before, and I mean it. And I shall insist on seeing Joy whenever I want – I have the right. I am her father, and any court in the land will back me.’

‘You’re trying to blackmail me?’

‘I am saying it would be far better for Joy – and simpler all round – if you agreed to live as my wife again. It’s what you’re used to, damn it, not this hovel. And I wouldn’t impose any demands on you, I promise you that. It would be separate bedrooms until you felt you were ready.’