Coming Home to Island House Page 15

  ‘But I haven’t got anything remotely suitable to wear for a dance,’ Hope had remonstrated.

  ‘You can borrow something of mine. You too, Allegra, if you’d like to.’

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ Allegra had said, her headache seemingly forgotten, ‘I have something I can wear.’

  Now, seeing his sister appearing to enjoy herself dancing with Edmund, Kit felt proud of himself for encouraging her to come. Just like Evelyn, Edmund was a sharp-as-mustard cerebral type, and Kit knew that Hope responded well to that kind of fellow. And if an old friend could cheer her up for a few hours, then that had to be a good thing in Kit’s opinion.

  ‘Why are you watching my brother and your sister so closely?’ asked Evelyn.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Kit said, ‘I didn’t think I was being that obvious.’

  ‘You were. Not that I’m expecting you to have eyes only for me, but a little contact would be appreciated.’

  ‘Sorry,’ he said again. ‘It’s just that losing Dieter seemed to destroy every last drop of Hope’s optimism. She deserves to be happy.’

  Evelyn looked at him solemnly. ‘She will be when she’s ready. You can’t rush grief.’

  The music came to a stop, and after applauding the band, Kit said, ‘Shall we sit the next one out? I’m conscious that your poor feet can only take so much of my clumsiness.’

  ‘You really should stop that, you know.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Putting yourself down. You’ve only stepped on my feet the once, which is quite acceptable given how busy the dance floor is. Oh look, there’s Allegra dancing with Elijah Hartley. Don’t they make a handsome pair?’

  Looking across the dance floor, Kit had to agree that they did indeed. ‘It’s funny how we’re all picking up with old friendships, isn’t it?’ he said.

  ‘Some friendships are meant to last.’

  He looked at Evelyn. ‘Do you think ours is?’

  She laughed. ‘Tell me in fifty years’ time.’

  He laughed too, and wondered if he dared pluck up the courage to kiss her before the evening was over. Why not? Wasn’t he now a man who was capable of anything?

  Allegra was surprised how well Elijah danced. She wondered where he’d learnt, and with whom. But what she wondered most was why he had bothered to ask her to dance.

  After the awkwardness of their brief conversation in the garden yesterday, she had been left with the strongest conviction that he had no desire whatsoever to speak to her ever again. Yet, and with scarcely a word exchanged, here he was, his strong, warm body pressed against hers filling her with confusion and making her wish she could read his mind. His brooding silence was unbearable. Why didn’t he just tell her exactly what he thought of her? Why put her through this torment?

  Oh, if only she could turn back the clock to the time when they’d been such close friends, to a time before she threw away one of the few things that had ever mattered to her: her friendship with Elijah.

  Luigi might have been her lover, but hindsight had taught her that he had not been a friend. All too easily she had handed herself over to him, mind, body and soul, to the exclusion of all else. He had stressed the importance of her staying focused, of blocking out anything and anyone who might halt her progress. He had taken charge of every detail of her day-to-day routine – what she ate, what she wore, where she went.

  When she thought about it now, she had been no better than a prisoner with Luigi’s obsessive nature controlling her life, making her his, and his alone. It meant that she’d had no one to turn to, no one she could trust. Consequently she had been left to face an unimaginable mess alone. Had that been why she had responded to Roddy’s telegram the way she did? Had she subconsciously thought of Island House as a temporary place of sanctuary where she might be able to sort out her life?

  ‘You’re not enjoying yourself, are you? Are you ashamed to be seen dancing with me?’

  His first words since asking her to dance had Allegra tilting her head back to look up into Elijah’s face. She almost dreaded what she might see.

  ‘Of course I’m not ashamed to be seen with you,’ she said. ‘How could you say such a thing?’

  ‘Because you’re not the girl I once knew. Neither of us can pretend you are.’

  ‘And you’re not the boy you once were either. You’re so full of anger, and I can understand why.’

  ‘Can you? Can you really?’

  ‘Please, Elijah, why don’t you just say what’s on your mind and be done with it?’

  ‘Maybe I’m waiting for you to do the same.’

  ‘Will you listen to me if I do?’

  He nodded.

  ‘You said earlier that I’m not the girl I once was; well, nor am I the woman you think I am now. I’ve made some terrible choices in life, but the worst one was to leave you the way I did, to say the things I did. Maybe I did it that way because I was frightened you’d try to stop me if I showed the slightest weakness.’

  ‘I would never have stopped you from pursuing your dream,’ he said with a frown. ‘Never.’

  She shook her head. ‘My dream, as you call it, has been nothing but a sham. I’ve made some awful mistakes, but one in particular that will live with me forever.’

  He tightened his hold on her, as if he were afraid she might escape. ‘Are you sure it was a mistake? My grandfather always used to say that mistakes are like weeds, in that there’s really no such thing as a weed, it’s merely a plant in the wrong place. So maybe you need to look at what you think is a mistake from a different angle.’ The tone of his voice had changed; there was a lightness to it now.

  ‘I wish it were that simple,’ she said sadly.

  ‘Life is as simple or as complicated as you want to make it.’

  ‘Do you really believe that?’

  ‘I do. But then I’m just a lowly gardener, whereas the world you live in might be different.’

  ‘Oh caro,’ she said miserably, ‘I’m not successful. Not in the way you think. In Italy, there are any number of singers like me, plenty who are a lot better.’

  ‘You’re just being modest.’

  His misplaced belief in her was suddenly too much to bear. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about!’ she said. ‘You know nothing about the struggle I’ve had in order to succeed. You know nothing! Niente!’ Anger and shame and disappointment all rolled into one and she pushed him away angrily, before turning and blundering her way through the other dancers.

  She kept on running, not caring where she was going. On and on she ran until her breath was ragged and her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. Then she dropped to her knees on the grass and sobbed, for the mess she’d made of everything, for the child she was carrying, and the mother she could never be to it. She sobbed for Elijah too, for his absurd blind faith that she was better than he was. She wasn’t! She was utterly worthless. And still she hadn’t had the courage to beg his forgiveness for the way she had treated him.

  She was crying so hard, she didn’t hear the footsteps coming up behind her in the darkness. Not until she felt the pressure of a hand on her shoulder did she know that somebody was kneeling on the grass beside her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Elijah said. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. Forgive me, please.’

  She shuddered and tried to compose herself. ‘Please … please don’t be nice. Not when it’s me who needs to be forgiven for leaving you the way I did all those years ago. For having so much stubborn pride. For telling you that I was so much better than you because I had ambition and you didn’t. I called you a nobody, and said that you would always be a nobody. It was a vile thing to say.’ She looked up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘I was wrong. I wasn’t better than you. Far from it. Forgive me, please, please don’t stay angry with me!’

  ‘Oh Allegra, of course I forgi
ve you. And I’m sorry I was angry with you. It was the shock of seeing you again after all those years. Back then, I knew you’d go one day, that I’d lose you, you were like a caged bird here, but I also knew that one day you’d come back.’

  ‘Why? Why would you think that?’

  He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But you did, didn’t you? You’re here now.’

  ‘I’m back because I’m a failure. My wretched ambition hasn’t brought me happiness, or even success. Not on the scale you believe it has. My stupid big dream of becoming a famous opera singer was nothing more than a dream. And now it’s gone. My voice has gone and … and I’m expecting a baby. There. What do you think of me now?’

  He stared at her, then very gently pushed her damp hair away from her tear-stained face. ‘Right now I feel as if the last ten years never happened.’ He stared deep into her eyes. ‘You’re still the same Allegra to me,’ he murmured. ‘Beautiful and wilful, and a courageous fighter.’

  ‘I’m none of those things. Maybe I was once, but not now. I’m beaten. Truly I am. I’m so tired. Tired of life maybe. Some days I think it would be better if I were dead.’

  He took her hands in his. ‘Don’t say that. Not ever. What does the father of the baby have to say about it?’

  ‘He doesn’t know. And he never will. He’s out of my life now. He’s taken all the money I earned and every last scrap of my reputation and dignity. I’m a pathetic laughing stock,’ she said miserably.

  ‘Not true. You’re Allegra Salvato, the girl I adored on sight.’ He bent his head and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

  She shivered.

  ‘You’re cold,’ he said with concern. ‘Come with me.’

  He took her home to Clover End Cottage, a thatched dwelling on the edge of Clover Woods where he’d lived with his grandfather. It seemed even smaller than Allegra remembered as she warmed herself by the range and looked around while he lit the oil lamps.

  ‘It’s not what you’re used to up at Island House, I know,’ he said, observing her, ‘but it’s home for me. One day I might even have electricity,’ he added with a smile, ‘and an indoor lavatory.’

  ‘It feels comfortable,’ she said, taking in the range with a battered armchair either side, where she remembered Elijah’s grandfather sitting while reading his bible and smoking his pipe. Above the range was a shelf with a row of pots and pans and an iron, which made Allegra picture Elijah carefully ironing the white shirt he’d worn for the dance this evening. Over by the window was a table and three chairs; to one side was a sink with a wooden draining board and a cupboard, and to the other a tall bookcase crammed full with books. It was, she thought, the one new thing in the room; otherwise everything was as she remembered it.

  Elijah saw her looking at the bookcase. ‘I have you to thank for my love of reading,’ he said. ‘Remember that book you gave me for my tenth birthday? I still have it.’ He went to the shelves and pulled out the book of maps she had stolen from her uncle. ‘You wrote in it for me,’ he said, opening it. ‘“Happy Birthday, Elijah, with love from Allegra.”’

  ‘You kept it,’ she said softly. ‘All these years and you kept it.’

  ‘Of course I did,’ he said. ‘I must confess, I always felt I ought to return it to its rightful owner. But I never did.’

  ‘You knew it wasn’t mine to give you, then?’

  He nodded and put the book back. ‘I used to look at the map of Italy, the page you’d marked, and imagine you there. Would you like something to drink? I can’t run to anything fancy, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Do you know what I’d like?’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Some hot chocolate. I remember your grandfather making it for us.’

  Elijah smiled. ‘I should be able to manage that all right.’

  ‘Do you like living alone?’ she asked, as he uncovered a jug of milk on the draining board.

  ‘I’m used to it,’ he said, pouring the milk into a pan and setting it on the range. He opened one of the doors beneath and from a metal bucket shovelled in more coke to the glowing embers.

  ‘What about girlfriends?’

  He put the bucket and shovel down and wiped his hands on the back of his trousers. ‘There’ve been a few, I can’t deny it. I’m not cut out to live as a monk. No man is.’

  ‘Nobody serious then?’

  He spooned cocoa powder from a canister into the milk. ‘Not on my part. Too choosy by half, my old grandad used to say. And let’s face it, I’m not that good a catch.’

  She smiled. ‘A man who has his own cottage and can iron his shirts; I’d say that makes you a fine catch.’

  He smiled too and set two mugs on the table. ‘Sugar?’

  ‘If you have it.’

  When the cocoa was made, they sat in the two armchairs either side of the range, Elijah’s long legs stretched out towards hers. For a while, neither of them spoke, the faint hiss of the oil lamps the only sound to be heard.

  ‘What are you going to do about the baby?’ Elijah asked at length. ‘Will you keep it after it’s born?’

  ‘I don’t think I could give it up. Unplanned or not, this child is mine. Perhaps it’s the only real thing I have in my life. Or ever will.’

  ‘How will you manage?’

  She told him about her uncle’s will. ‘I never thought he’d leave me anything, but if my cousins and I can put up with each other for a few more days, my immediate financial problems will be solved.’

  He nodded. ‘Have you told anyone about the baby?’

  ‘Only you. And for now, I’d prefer to keep it that way, so please don’t tell anyone.’

  ‘Why would I?’ he asked with a pained expression.

  She drank some of her hot chocolate. It was just as she remembered it, thick and creamy and very sweet. ‘I’m bored with talking about me,’ she said. ‘Tell me something about you.’

  He cradled his own mug in his large hands. ‘I’m going to enlist and join the Suffolk Regiment. Just like my dad, and my grandad before him. I should have done it months ago. But I kept hoping it wouldn’t come to that. Seems that things have changed now. I reckon by the end of next week we’ll be at war with Germany, so me and some of the lads from the village have made our minds up to go and do our bit.’

  Allegra looked at him, saddened. She remembered him as a young boy, how shy he’d been, and how gentle, how he’d rescued an injured baby blue tit and cared for it until it was well enough to fly away. The thought of him going to war filled her with dismay. To have found him again only to lose him was too dreadful to contemplate.

  ‘Perhaps you’ll write to me while I’m gone,’ he said. ‘I’d like that.’

  She swallowed. ‘There might not be a war,’ she said quietly. ‘Germany might come to its senses.’

  ‘They won’t. Mark my words; there will be a war. A bloody awful one.’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  It was Sunday morning and once again Annelise had woken early. It was what babies did, Hope now accepted; there was no way round it. But thank heavens for Florence and her cheerful willingness to help; the girl was a marvel.

  Seated at the kitchen table and encouraging Annelise to eat some toast, Hope took the cup of tea Florence had just poured for her. ‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘and thank you also for all your help.’

  ‘That’s all right, madam, it’s no bother.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s not entirely true, but thank you all the same.’ Hope stirred a spoonful of sugar into her tea, then decided to do what she should have done before now but had put off because she was so ashamed of her behaviour. She stirred her tea some more. ‘Florence,’ she began, ‘I’m afraid I was very rude to you the other morning, and I’m sorry for what I said. It was wrong of me to be so short with you, and I want you to know that I appreciate all that you and Mrs Partridge are doing for me.’


  ‘That’s all right, madam,’ Florence said with a hesitant half-smile. ‘We’re all finding our way just now, aren’t we?’

  Hope smiled back at her. ‘I suppose we are, yes.’ She took a sip of her tea. Then: ‘Do you think you could call me by my name, Florence? Madam makes me feel so old.’

  ‘Of course, Mrs Meyer. If that’s what you’d prefer.’

  ‘No, not that. Call me Hope. You see, despite the impression you might have gained of me, I don’t really like an excess of formality. I’m much more of an egalitarian.’

  Florence’s eyes widened. ‘An eager what?’

  Hope nudged another square of toast towards Annelise, urging her to pick it up. ‘Egalitarian means believing in everybody being equal,’ she said. ‘That’s you and me being the same, with no barriers between us. A classless society is what we should be striving for in the world, not fighting each other, setting man against man and boy against boy.’ She sighed. ‘The Great War was supposed to put an end to all wars, but we haven’t learnt a thing, have we?’

  At the perplexed expression on Florence’s face, Hope shook her head and raised a hand. ‘I’m sorry, I’m going on far too much. Just ignore me.’

  She went back to drinking her tea, knowing that the reason she had spoken the way she had was because she and Edmund had been discussing these things last night. Growing up, they had always seen the world through the same eyes, just as she and Dieter had. It was a shame Edmund had never met Dieter, she was sure they would have got along well together. Like Dieter, Edmund was of a serious bent with a strong social conscience. A doctor at St Thomas’s Hospital in Lambeth, he had suggested that when Hope returned to her flat in London next week, she might like to get in touch with him to arrange lunch. She had made a note of his telephone number and address, but she knew that the reality of her life now would preclude having the time for anything like that.