Where Earth Meets Sky (47 page)

All day, since they arrived, the air had been full of excitement and the screech and roar of the motors being put through their paces up the hill. Lily and Susan had spent the time together, and it had been a good chance for them to re-establish their friendship while the men were caught up in all the motoring activity.

Susan was now living alone on the south coast outside Eastbourne, and Lily worried for her. She had only once been down to visit Susan, who had seemed very pleased to see her, but that had been almost a year ago, soon after Lily went to work for the Larstonburys. The two of them had walked on the beach on a warm, early summer afternoon and Lily was struck by how much Susan seemed to need her to be there. She put it down to the war and all the bereavements Susan had suffered, and that she was someone who knew Susan’s past. Though she had confided in Lily in Ambala, it had been out of desperation, since there was no one else. Now she seemed a sad, more humble woman altogether, and one who was clearly living a lonely life. She evidently saw a few people for bridge afternoons, but no one to whom she could really feel close, and she met Cosmo only occasionally.

When Lily left to catch the train, Susan almost begged, ‘Oh do come again, won’t you, please?’

Lily had intended to, but weeks had passed and now she was so much in demand from Piers Larstonbury during any of her time off duty that somehow she had never visited again. She was pleased to see, though, that today Susan had dressed up and looked younger and attractive again.

As they had passed the afternoon together waiting for Cosmo’s event, Susan poured out her worries about him.

‘I can’t seem to get near him at all – he’s so sullen with me. And he throws himself into such rages. I’m sure he drinks far too much . . . I can’t bear to see my boy like that, but he won’t listen to me – does he listen to you, Lily?’

Lily smiled, sadly. ‘Not so far as I can see. But I know how much he loathes it at the bank. I so much hope that this chance to drive will give him a new lease of life . . .’

From far in the distance came a ripple of sound. Susan’s eyes widened.

‘He’s off! Oh, dear God, please let him be all right!’

They stood amid the excited crowd on the bank behind the track, straining their ears to hear the sound of the engine approaching. Lily pictured Cosmo, face tensed with concentration, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched so that his chin jutted, alive in every nerve. And she thought of Sam who was never far from her mind. She knew she would be seeing him later and her nerves were so jangled at the thought that she could barely stand still. There was the pull of him, the overpowering need to see him and the fear and anger that went with it, and sooner or later she knew she wasn’t going to be able to avoid it any longer.

At last they heard the car and within a moment it rounded the bend at the bottom of the S, its slim, streamlined shape coursing fast up the slope with what seemed astonishing speed. It was over in a few seconds, and they could not see Cosmo’s face, only his head and hunched shoulders, and the car swung along towards the top of the S in the track and was gone with a receding roar.

‘Oh, dear God,’ Susan Fairford breathed.

‘He looks marvellous,’ Lily said, full of pride for him.

‘Let’s just pray he gets through . . . He’s so impulsive – erratic, somehow . . . We must go and join them at the end!’

Lily hesitated. Being here with Susan, away from the men, she could avoid it all: Piers Larstonbury’s gentle face, his eyes always following her with a besotted, admiring gaze, and Sam, who she knew would be trying to catch her eye, trying to draw her in. Somehow she always seemed to be trapped by the gaze of men. And with Sam Ironside it was all so much more disturbing, frightening, since he was the one man for whom she had ever felt anything real.

That evening they all put up in an inn called the Pack Horse in a nearby village, where a sturdy feast of meat pies, mashed potatoes and gravy, with plenty of the local ale, turned into a triumphant celebration. The car had not only held up but made a very respectable time on the 1,000-yard hill and Cosmo had shown that he could handle her beautifully.

There were nine of them seated round a long table in a low-ceilinged room. At the head of the table Piers Larstonbury presided, with Cosmo and Lily on each side of him. Lily found herself seated beside Mary Marks, Loz’s wife, whose two boys were beside her and Loz at the other end of the table, with Sam beside him. Susan sat between Cosmo and Sam.

Piers Larstonbury was obviously enjoying the homely food after Virginia’s eccentric fare. He lifted his glass of ale and smiled warmly at Cosmo and then down the table towards Sam and Loz, his mechanics.

‘Well!’ He raised his well-spoken voice. ‘I’d say today was a great triumph and a marvellous beginning. I congratulate you all – and thank you all. You’ve done me proud.’

‘Oh, there are still plenty of improvements we can make!’ Loz called along the table. His face was rubicund with beer and excitement and Lily could see he was immensely proud to be able to show off his prowess in front of his wife and sons.

‘We’ll beat Frazer-Nash yet!’ Sam joined in excitedly. ‘You just wait and see!’

‘Oh yes – we certainly shall!’ Cosmo’s voice was louder than everyone else’s.

Captain Archie Frazer-Nash, in his little two-cylinder car, was winning more events than any other driver. He was certainly setting the standard.

‘Well, I sincerely hope so – and believe so too, after today!’ Piers Larstonbury said.

Lily was astonished to see the difference in him since they had left London. She was used to seeing him as the sober, rather browbeaten husband of Virginia Larstonbury, someone quiet, dutiful and industrious who lived a genteel and cultured Hampstead life. But the racetrack and the company of a different kind of man seemed to have brought out something lively and boyish in him. She saw that he looked animated and happy in a way she had only ever glimpsed before when he was alone with her.

Beside him, Cosmo was smiling and excited as well, though as the evening passed she watched anxiously as he drank more and more.
Stop now
, she kept thinking as Cosmo grew more red-faced and loud.
Don’t spoil everything.
She had no idea whether Sam and the others realized how much Cosmo was drinking. She raised her eyebrows warningly at Cosmo several times across the table, but he chose to ignore her as if she was of no consequence, and she felt slighted by it.

It was impossible for her to relax and simply enjoy the evening. Having Piers, Sam and Cosmo there all at once was overwhelming. She wondered what everyone guessed about her relationship with Piers Larstonbury. It must have been obvious that she was his mistress. She told herself she didn’t care. After all, she had done all this before, hadn’t she, and what ever came of it? The British social classes of Mussoorie knew what she was to Dr Ewan McBride, but what could they do? Accept or reject her – it was all the same to her, she thought. No one here was in a position to question anything about Piers Larstonbury. But Sam – what did he think? All evening she avoided his eye, but every so often she looked along the table, surprised to see how much time he spent in conversation with Susan Fairford. She knew he had not liked Susan while they were in Ambala, had been quite scathing about her, where now they seemed to be talking easily, almost affectionately. She took the chance to watch Sam while his attention was elsewhere. He did not seem to have changed, she thought. He was still the slender, serious-eyed man she remembered, still with that quiet intensity about him which had drawn her to him in the first place, yet which would suddenly break open into a burst of spontaneous, twinkling laughter, lighting him up with mischief and warmth. She did not see him laugh like that this evening, even though there were glimpses of it in his smiles at Susan or Loz. And she noticed that every so often he took his handkerchief out and wiped his left eye which seemed to be troubling him. She thought she had also noticed a slight limp. So many young men limped these days. Every so often, as she talked to Loz’s wife, Mary, beside her, she felt Sam’s gaze fixed on her. It made her tremble inside and she did not look back.

She was glad of the company of Mary Marks, who was a homely, cheerful woman with a pink, round face rather like her husband’s, and a broad smile. She clearly felt a bit out of her depth in the present company and in her nervousness became very talkative, in between turning to her boys to admonish them to sit still, be quiet or eat up. Lily smiled encouragingly at the boys. They were in fact very well behaved, perhaps a bit overawed by the occasion, and they seemed nice lads.

‘I never thought my Loz would get involved with something like this,’ Mary chattered to Lily, soon after they sat down. ‘I mean, he’s only a mechanic, just very ordinary, in a factory, like, and I’ve never been out of Birmingham before. It’s all very new to me.’

Lily, to her own surprise, since she never usually told anyone anything, found herself saying, ‘In actual fact, I come from Birmingham myself. I was born there.’

‘Really – were you?’ Mary’s brow furrowed. ‘You don’t sound like it – if you don’t mind me saying,’ she added anxiously. ‘Which part?’

Lily hesitated, her usual habits of secrecy pressing in on her. But what did it matter if she was honest with this kindly woman?

‘Well, I worked in Hall Green for a good many years. But I was born in Sparkbrook, I believe.’

‘Sparkbrook – are you sure?’ Mary blushed in confusion at having sounded so surprised. ‘I mean, I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s a bit rough round there. Perhaps your family went up in the world after . . . ?’ Realizing she was being rather forward she faltered into silence, blushing even more.

‘Yes.’ Lily closed down the conversation. ‘We did soon move away.’ She told Mary that she had worked for Susan Fairford and knew Cosmo as a child.

‘Oh, I see.’ Mary said, but clearly she didn’t see and didn’t ask any more questions. Instead she spent a good deal of the rest of the evening chattering about her two boys, a subject she never tired of. But it was a relief to Lily.

Several times during the meal, Piers Larstonbury, who was talking with Cosmo, reached for her hand under the table and whispered, ‘All right, my love?’

She smiled, and once, glancing at Cosmo, whispered, ‘Please – don’t let him drink too much . . .’

She was so happy for Cosmo, that the day had been a success. It was all she dreamed for him, her boy, but she worried for him constantly. There was something in him that felt dangerous, and she wanted to take him to her and protect him the way she had when he was very small. Of course, he would never let her.

The men were all in high, celebratory spirits and as the evening wore on, Lily felt she might drown in Mary Marks’s chatter and she began to feel very drowsy.

‘I’m going to slip out to the ladies’ cloakroom,’ she whispered to Mary, and smiling at Piers she slipped from the room. In the little privy out at the back she sat on the wooden seat and rested her head in her hands for a moment. Her head was muzzy after drinking ale and now she was in private, her emotions began to course through her. She found she was shaky and close to tears. Sitting so close to Sam all evening was a torment which filled her with longing for a past she knew she could never recapture, and seeing him opened up raw feelings of grief and anger. If only he’d never come into her life again! She had had those few sweet days with him and then he had caused her nothing but agony and distress.

Angry and close to tears, she washed her hands and dried them on the old piece of towelling hanging on a nail, but they were still damp and she waved them gently in the air as she emerged from the privy into the warm gloom, lit only by light shining through the curtains at the back of the inn.

‘Lily?’

His voice: she knew it immediately, and froze like a trapped animal. She saw his slender figure emerge from the shadows and he was beside her.

‘Lily . . .’

She did not speak, could not.

‘Please – I want to talk to you. We’ve got to talk properly and there’s never any time or place to do it. We never had the chance.’

Her silence made him falter.

‘God, woman, I’ll never understand you. I thought you loved me – the way you acted, the way you looked at me . . .’

Lily felt a pressure inside her of rage and hurt and tears which strangled the words in her throat.
I did love you, I did, I do!
She lowered her head, full of panic, forcing herself to be a fortress.
Don’t let him in. He’ll hurt you again and again . . .

‘Leave me alone, Sam,’ she managed to say in a low, calm voice. ‘I don’t want to be disturbed. There’s nothing we can say to each other. It’s all too long ago – past history. I don’t want to dig it up.’

‘I see.’ His voice was low at first, but it grew louder as he let out his hurt resentment. ‘Well, if that’s how it is. I just thought you might want to tell me who that woman was in Mussoorie who told me she loved me, who promised to meet me and who never damn well turned up or bothered to explain or apologize and who
I loved
, damn it! Who I’ve never been able to forget since, who I see all over again and she’s as cold as a fish and won’t even speak to me. God, I’ve been a proper fool!’

He backed away from her, still talking.

‘Love! Huh – there’s no such thing, is there? All this time there was me thinking I’d had something, but that wasn’t real either, you were just pretending and playing with me until you had a better offer, no doubt. Some classy toff you could sponge off and mess about with his feelings as well. Piers Larstonbury loves you, did you know? It’s written all over him, poor sod. Well, good luck to him – and you. I hope you get what you want, Lily – damn you!’