Page 56 of Last Letter Home
It was a Sunday. Diane came downstairs late to breakfast and refused point blank to attend divine service, so Sarah suggested the two of them go for a walk instead.
They took the footpath beside the river, glad of their rubber boots given the mud from the recent rain. It was wonderful to experience the world coming to life again after the long winter; the birds singing their hearts out, hazel catkins like lamb’s tails scattering pollen, coltsfoot and celandine everywhere in splattered dots of yellow. All these things Sarah noticed as though for the first time, unable to keep her mind bursting out into little thoughts of happiness about Paul, promising herself she would write to him about spring in Westbury.
But for now she must concentrate on Diane, who was walking along sadly, seemingly fixed on a scene far away rather than the beauty all around. As they followed the bend of the river, they came upon the sight of a pair of swans treading against the current under the willows and stopped to watch. Diane gave a deep, shuddering sigh and her wan expression moved Sarah to say, ‘Oh, Diane, dear, don’t take it all to heart so. It must be awful, I know, but you’re here safe with us. Do you still love him very much?’
Diane shook her head. ‘It might sound better if I had done, but I didn’t.’ This stunned Sarah, but before she could respond her sister went on. ‘He was kind and so grateful. His wife is the most selfish old tartar you can imagine and I made him happy for a while. There, I’ve shocked you, haven’t I, but you know me. I can never do anything right. The other Wrens were complete bitches about it. I’m glad to be done with them.’
‘It’s good that you’re home then. There’ll be something else you can do instead.’
Diane turned to her, her blue eyes pools of desperation. ‘I have to tell you, Sarah. I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you and Mummy, but the situation is not that simple. I . . . I think I’m having his baby. One of the bitches said I must be and I went to the doctor. I don’t know how my CO found out about it, but she did. That’s why they didn’t simply reassign me.’
‘Diane, gosh, I’m so . . . sorry.’ For a moment Sarah felt numb, then the sight of her sister’s distress made sympathy flow and her mind began to work again. ‘No wonder you’re so upset.’ Another thought occurred to her, something ugly and dangerous. ‘You haven’t tried anything, have you? To . . . get rid of it, I mean.’
‘No. I heard of a girl in Dundee who nearly died doing that. I’ll have to have the baby and give it away. Sarah, I can’t tell Mummy, it’ll kill her. You’ll have to do it for me.’
‘I certainly will not,’ Sarah retorted. ‘Of course it won’t kill her. She’ll be jolly cross for a bit, but she’ll come round.’ She remembered once walking in on a conversation her parents were having in India about one of the junior officers who’d got a local girl into trouble. The boy concerned had wanted to marry her, but that was unthinkable. Mrs Bailey took charge, visiting the Indian girl’s parents and arranging for a payment to be made. Sarah had asked her mother about it later. ‘Oh, they’d have found some young man for her whose family was glad of the money,’ Mrs Bailey had said dismissively. Sarah sometimes thought of this girl and wondered about her fate. At least Diane wouldn’t be cast out of the family or ritually killed or any of the other nasty things that she’d heard rumours of in India. Sarah’s mind worked quickly. This was something she’d inherited from her mother, the ability to think clearly in a crisis and do the sensible thing. Maybe Diane could be sent away somewhere – to Aunt Susan in London perhaps – and return once the baby was born . . . A little niece or nephew; no, it wouldn’t do to think about it like that, if she would never get to know it . . . Oh, why had Diane been so stupid.
Pull yourself together, she told herself. Right now, her sad, prickly little sister needed love and reassurance and she was ready to give it. ‘Come on,’ she said, taking Diane’s hand and steering her away from the water’s edge. ‘Wait until after lunch and Mrs Allman goes off. I’ll take Derek to look for early frogspawn and you can tell Mummy then.’
Later, on her return to the house with Derek, who found no frogspawn but had netted a single bewildered minnow now swimming in his pail, Sarah half-expected to see the roof of the house raised several inches, but all appeared calm as usual. She entered with caution, to find it silent. A scribbled note on the console table in the hall informed her that her mother had taken Diane up to Aunt Margo’s. Poor Diane, she sighed. The two women would doubtless plot her fate. But in this she was wrong.
‘Mummy actually lied to her.’ Diane’s eyes were full of wild fun later. ‘She told Margo that I’m on leave and am going to be transferred somewhere else, that’s the story. Mummy’s going to write to Aunt Susan this evening and everything will be all right. It’s such a relief, Sarah.’
‘What about the baby?’ Sarah couldn’t stop herself saying. ‘Aren’t you going to be terribly sad to give it away?’
‘Possibly, but what else can I do? It’s like Mummy says. It’s no good crying over spilt milk. What’s done is done.’
Sometimes Diane took her sister’s breath away. That closed expression had come down across her face. Did her callous remark indicate shallowness or stoicism? The girl was ultimately unknowable.
Twenty-nine
OK to pop by this morning?
Briony replied immediately to Luke’s text. Please do. Working, but will stop for elevenses.
She motored quickly through two hours’ editing, fuelled by pleasant anticipation of Luke and Aruna’s arrival. On the dot of eleven she looked up at the sound of crunching gravel to see Luke’s tall lithe figure coming down up the path. Of Aruna there was no sign.
Curious, she went to the door. When she admitted Luke the summer breeze came too. He was like a breath of fresh air in her dusty hall, in pressed T-shirt and jeans, his mane of toffee-coloured hair blown about.
‘Hi,’ he said, hugging her briefly. His eyes crinkled as he smiled, but there was something distracted about him today.
‘Are you all right?’ she enquired. ‘Where’s Aruna?’
‘Gone back to London. Work commitments. Yeah, I’m great, thanks. You?’
‘Fine,’ she said hurriedly, wondering why he’d come and if she’d misread his subdued expression. ‘Come through, I’ll put the kettle on.’
In the kitchen he leaned against a work surface and watched her spoon coffee into mugs.
‘I’m sorry not to see Aruna.’
‘There was some crisis in her office. I offered to drive her, but she said Mum and Dad would be disappointed if I left early too, so she took the train.’
Briony nodded. It was on the tip of her tongue to mention having seen Aruna in Cockley Market the other morning, but she decided that discretion was probably the best course. Luke probably knew Aruna had met someone there – but suppose he didn’t? Aruna was her friend, she’d never make things difficult for her.
‘So . . . I took the opportunity to come over. I might look round the walled garden later in case Greg Richards gets in touch.’
‘Good idea.’ Luke had been pleased that Briony had recommended him to Greg.
