The Orchid House (46 page)

Harry had calculated that he would need to borrow ten thousand pounds to start putting the estate back on its feet. And it would be two years before it showed any kind of profit, and he could begin repaying the loan. It was going to be a long haul …

He sighed and checked the grandfather clock, which ticked quietly in the corner of his father’s study. It was half past two in the morning. He thought then, as he did every night, of Lidia and where she might be now. It was already morning in Bangkok. Lidia would be sitting at the reception desk, smiling and charming the new guests …

And dreaming of Harry coming back to her soon.

He removed some notepaper from his father’s drawer and, as he did every night, penned her a few lines of love. He sealed them in an envelope, ready to give to Bill in the morning. He no longer talked of the future, tantalized her with what could never be, but told her only how much he loved and missed her.

Her letters to him arrived sporadically, but he searched for them every day under the orchids in the hothouse.

Harry sighed as he turned off the lamp on the desk and headed for the door. He felt he had already served a life sentence in Changi; now it seemed he had to serve it again, here at Wharton Park.

44

As summer turned to autumn, and the chill of winter approached, Christopher became too weak to leave his bed. Adrienne sat with him most of the day, talking and reading to him as he dozed, and leaving his side only when either Harry or Olivia came to relieve her.

And then, in December, just before Christmas, Christopher suffered another severe heart attack. He died a few hours later, having never recovered consciousness.

The funeral took place on the day before Christmas Eve, in the small church on the estate where Harry and Olivia had married. It was well attended: over three hundred people came to pay their respects. His body was entombed in the Crawford family vault, to lie for eternity alongside his forefathers.

Olivia watched Harry out of the corner of her eye as he welcomed the mourners into the house after the service. His sad, drawn features betrayed his pain: at that moment she thought she had never loved him more. Even though he was still unresponsive and distant, and her attempts to make him talk about his experiences in Changi had failed miserably, he often came to her late at night and made love to her.

She frequently woke to find bruises on her body, and felt a dull ache inside her from being taken by him so roughly. At some point, she would tell him he needed to be more gentle, but for now, under the circumstances, she let him be. The contact and solace it brought her were too important to sacrifice.

Christmas was a sombre affair; although, bearing in mind her delicate nature, Adrienne proved surprisingly stoic about her loss. Perhaps she was helped by the fact she’d had time to prepare for it and had said everything she needed to say to her beloved husband before he had died.

When the bells of local churches pealed in the New Year, Olivia, for one, was grateful. She could only pray it would bring Harry the peace and happiness he so desperately needed.

In early January, as the first harsh snow of winter fell on Wharton Park, Harry knew he must contact Lidia and break the news that he would not be returning. Whilst the truth existed only in his head, and Lidia was unaware of it and still sent him loving letters, Harry had allowed himself to imagine that being with her was still a possibility, in order to alleviate his darkest moments.

But there had been an edge of anxiety in her most recent missives; she said there was so much to discuss on his return, and had asked him tentatively when he thought that might be. He also noticed she was no longer using headed paper from the Oriental Hotel and a twinge of concern insinuated itself into his thoughts.

Unable to tell her the truth, he wrote and explained that his father had died and there was much to sort out before he could leave to be with her.

And then her letters stopped altogether.

And Harry knew something was wrong.

On a whim, he went to the post office in Cromer and sent a telegram to Madame Giselle at the Oriental, asking of her health, but also of Lidia’s.

Two days later, he received a reply:

HARRY STOP ALL WELL HERE STOP WHEN DO YOU RETURN STOP LIDIA LEFT SUDDENLY TWO MONTHS AGO STOP NO FORWARDING ADDRESS STOP REGARDS GISELLE

Harry held on to the counter to steady himself. He felt sick, dizzy …

Back at Wharton Park, he went to his study, closed the door and sat at his desk with his head in his hands. He took some deep breaths and tried to pull himself together.

Perhaps Lidia had simply been offered a better job elsewhere?

Harry shook his head. He knew this couldn’t be the case: Lidia loved her job, was proud of her work and the hotel, and was grateful for the opportunity Giselle had given her. Besides, she would have told him where she was.

Was she ill?

Harry’s heart began banging against his chest.

Was she
dead
?

He slammed his fist down on the desk. He had to go to her, to find her, wherever she was. And help her if she needed him to.

He paced around the study, trying to manufacture a reason that would seem rational to Olivia, and release him for the three months or so he would need to find Lidia, explain, and then say goodbye. Perhaps he could tell Olivia that he and Sebastian had discussed business ventures whilst he was in Bangkok, and that he wished to explore them further to bolster the estate finances.

Having settled on this plan, Harry was just about to pick up the telephone to Sebastian in Bangkok, when there was a knock on his study door.

‘Damn,’ Harry muttered under his breath. ‘Come,’ he called.

Olivia entered the room, an unusually nervous smile playing on her lips.

‘Harry, can I trouble you for five minutes or so?’

‘What is it?’

Olivia ignored his abruptness, sure that her news would at last bring a smile to his face. She sat down opposite him and realised her hands were shaking.

‘I have something to tell you … don’t worry, it’s the most wonderful news.’

Harry stared at her. ‘Good. Go on then.’

‘I –
we
are expecting a baby! There, darling. Just what we need after the dreadful few years we’ve all had.’

‘Are you sure?’ Harry frowned.

‘Completely,’ she nodded happily. ‘The doctor confirmed it yesterday. I am three months pregnant. The baby is expected at the end of June.’

Harry knew he must rouse himself and give the appropriate reaction. ‘Why, that is the most terrific news.’ He came round from his side of the desk, reached down and kissed her on the cheek.

She looked up at him, her eyes anxious. ‘You are pleased, aren’t you, darling?’

‘Of course I am, Olivia.’

‘And this time, I am going to be far more careful,’ she continued. ‘The doctor’s advised me, because of what happened last time, to take lots of rest. So, no more rushing around the estate like a mad thing. Of course, I shall hate every second of the inactivity, but it will be worth it in the long run, don’t you think?’

‘Of course it will be worth it,’ he agreed.

‘I’m afraid it’s going to mean more work for you though, darling. I’m sure, when we tell your mother, she will be only too happy to help you with the day-to-day running of the house. Once she gets over this dreadful influenza that’s so exhausted her. But the spring will soon be here. Oh, Harry,’ Olivia breathed, her eyes suddenly filling with tears, ‘our baby.’

Embarrassed by her unusual show of emotion, Olivia took a handkerchief from her cardigan and blew her nose. ‘Sorry. The moment rather got the better of me. I promise I shall not become a weeping sap and irritate you further.’

It was then Harry had a sudden glimpse of Olivia’s strength. He had offered her nothing of himself in the past few months, apart from occasional lovemaking, which he knew to be savage. He had treated her, at best, with diffidence; at worst, with disdain. And here she was, almost apologetic to be happy about expecting a child, because she was worried about his reaction.

It was a moment of stark realization. Cowed by what he could see as his own selfishness, and loathing himself for it, he knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his.

‘Darling, I’m absolutely thrilled. You must take as much rest as you need. And you jolly well deserve it.’ He took her in his arms and held her for a moment. ‘When shall we tell my mother?’

‘I thought at lunch.’

‘Have Mrs Jenks cook something special. We will give ourselves a treat to celebrate you being such a clever girl.’

Olivia nodded, glowing from his attentiveness and filled with hope that this could really be the turning point for their relationship, and the one thing that would bring them closer.

*

Olivia and Harry broke the news to Adrienne, who was still weak from her influenza. She proved to be as thrilled as Olivia had anticipated. After lunch, Harry took himself off to the stables and rode through the slushy vestiges of the snow covering his land.

He passed a small wood and Wharton Park came into full view. Harry drew his horse to a standstill and surveyed it. And, for the first time, drew a sense of pride from the fact it was his. He was now lord and master, and even his mother had to bow to his wishes. And, so far, he hadn’t been half bad at getting to grips with the job.

There was now a possible heir, too, maybe even a son to take up the reins when he died, and perhaps other children to come. It was a comforting thought.

Lidia …

Harry rested his cheek despairingly against his horse’s velvety neck. If life had been different, if
only
it had been different, he would have spent it with her.

But the bald truth was visible in every direction.

Wharton Park was what he had been born to. And there was no escape.

His mouth felt dry and tight as the pain of living without her resurfaced.

‘Oh, God …’ he moaned.

He had to accept it, to cease punishing himself and those around him, especially Olivia. She was not to blame for his passion for another woman and, at the very least, she deserved courtesy and understanding from him.

First, though, he must find Lidia, and set his beloved Hothouse Flower free to live a life without him. But how? With Olivia pregnant and needing rest, Harry knew it was impossible for him to leave her or the estate until at least after the baby was born.

There had to be another way …

When Harry finally kicked his horse on again, he had decided exactly what he must do. He rode back to the stables, dismounted and handed the horse to a groom. By the time he reached the door of the hothouse, his plan was firm in his mind. Bill was there, sitting on his stool, deep in concentration as he studied the roots of an orchid.

He looked up. ‘Afternoon, your Lordship. How are you?’

‘I am well, thank you, Bill.’ Harry still struggled to remember this title now applied to him. He had associated it with his father for so long.

‘No news again today, I’m afraid.’

‘No …’ Harry walked towards Bill and watched him for a while whilst he worked. ‘And I don’t think there will be. She seems to have disappeared.’

Bill put his pipette down and looked up at Harry. ‘What do you mean, she’s disappeared?’

‘She has left the hotel and no one seems to know where she’s gone. I’m obviously desperate with worry.’

‘I can imagine,’ Bill breathed. ‘I’m sorry. Anything I can do?’

Harry took a deep breath. ‘As a matter of fact, Bill, there is …’

At four thirty, Elsie took a tea tray up and knocked on Olivia’s bedroom door. She entered and found her mistress still asleep.

‘Wakey, wakey, your Ladyship!’

Olivia stirred and opened her eyes. ‘Goodness me, is it past four?’ she said sleepily, then her face broke into a smile. ‘It must have been the relief of telling Harry.’

Elsie lay the tray beside Olivia. ‘Of telling him what?’

Olivia turned to Elsie, her beautiful, turquoise eyes shining. She reached for her hand. ‘Dearest Elsie, now that I have told Harry and his mother, I can tell you too. I am expecting a child. And it’s due in June.’

‘Oh, your Ladyship! That is the best news I’ve heard for months! It’s lovely news, it really is.’

‘Yes, isn’t it? And Harry seemed thrilled too.’

‘I’ll bet,’ Elsie rallied, trying not to betray her own feelings for the new Lord Crawford. As she poured the tea, a sadness suddenly clouded her eyes. ‘You’re ever so lucky, your Ladyship – luckier than me.’

‘Oh, Elsie, I didn’t think. No news so far then?’

‘No. And nor will there ever be. We were married a while before Bill left four years ago, and he’s been back a long time now. So … well, he took himself off to the doctors last week. And they don’t think he can – you know, your Ladyship,’ Elsie blushed. ‘The doctor puts it down to an attack of mumps when Bill was twelve. So there won’t ever be babies for the two of us.’

‘Oh, Elsie, I am so terribly sorry.’ Olivia knew how passionately her maid had wanted a large family. ‘Perhaps you could adopt,’ she suggested.

‘Bill’s not that keen and I’m not sure how I feel about it either, but it’s early days yet. We’re going to let the dust settle and see how we both feel in a few months’ time.’

‘Of course,’ agreed Olivia, ‘very sensible.’

‘Now, your Ladyship,’ Elsie put her sadness to one side, ‘I don’t want you to think about me and spoil your happiness. You’ve been through a lot, you have, and you deserve this good news, you really do.’

‘Thank you, Elsie.’ Olivia sat up as Elsie passed her a cup of tea. ‘And just remember, never give up hope. Life has a funny way of sorting itself out, just you wait and see.’

Olivia had just retired to bed that same evening when Harry appeared, sat down on the bed next to her and took her hands in his.

Twice in one day
, thought Olivia happily.

‘Darling, if you are not too tired, I want to tell you about my idea,’ Harry began.

‘I am wide awake, darling, do fire away,’ Olivia encouraged, relishing the fact he was involving her.