Page 53 of The Secrets of Dragonfly Lodge
‘What will you do?’ she asked Edmund. Despite them being acquainted for so long as fellow students, she was rarely on her own with him, and given the five years between them in age and experience often felt a little shy in his company.
‘I haven’t decided yet,’ he said carefully. ‘I have family commitments and it suits me to stay in Kensington at present. In fact, I may not be coming to Brandingfield at all. Briggs and I are at loggerheads over the matter.’
‘Oh,’ she said, surprised and wondering what he meant about family, for she had thought he was single. ‘I assumed… I mean, is it your parents?’
‘My parents? No. They’re hale and hearty in Dorset, thank God. I have a child. A little girl named Marianne. She’s six. She lives with her mother, but I’m able to take her out.’ A fond expression crossed his face, then he looked at Nancy with concern. ‘We’re divorced, you see. Have I shocked you? You look a little pale.’
‘Not shocked, just – I didn’t know.’ She looked at him with new eyes now, understanding his habitual air of sadness.
‘It’s not something I broadcast,’ he murmured. ‘Nobody else’s business.’
‘No, of course not.’ She crumbled her cake and wondered what to say.
He sipped his tea, looking thoughtful, then smiled, reachedin his jacket for his wallet and extracted a scrap of card from it. ‘Here she is,’ he said, passing it over. It was, Nancy saw, a snap of a merry little girl with her head tilted to one side. Her hair was light-coloured like Edmund’s and she had his deep-set eyes. And Edmund’s mouth, too, but hers curved in a cheeky grin. ‘Marianne was only four when this was taken, but I keep it because she looks so happy.’
‘She’s very like you,’ Nancy said as she passed it back. He glanced at it with a soft expression and tucked it back in his wallet. ‘Is your wife—?’ She tried again. ‘Did you—?’
‘Vivienne and I met in London when I was home on leave and married rather hastily. We knew we might be separated for some time and it seemed the best thing to do. Marianne was born when I was in Cairo. It was hard for us not to be together and rotten for Viv. She had no mother to help her out and our flat was up three flights of stairs. It can be a very lonely business raising a young child…’ He let his words hang.
‘She must have missed you.’ The teashop was packed now. A large woman entered, wearing a thick fur coat. She brushed past Nancy, who felt the cold shock of snow against her cheek. When she looked at Edmund again he was gazing sadly down at his uneaten cake. ‘So…’ she managed to say, ‘things didn’t work out.’
‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘She wrote to me in Italy. Said she’d found someone else. They offered me compassionate leave but I wouldn’t take it. Stupid really. Too proud.’
‘You wish you had?’
He looked away. ‘For Marianne’s sake, yes. When I nextset eyes on Viv, I saw a stranger. Couldn’t think what I’d seen in her. Does that make me sound cold? Perhaps it does.’ He reached in his pocket for his cigarettes and lit one, which gave Nancy time to think of an answer.
‘A little,’ she said.
His eyes softened as he studied her through the smoke.
‘I’m so glad that you are young and came through the war unscathed,’ he said. ‘You can’t imagine what it was like for servicemen like me in the battlefield with only the thought of our loved ones to sustain us through the horror. But it’s taken me years to understand what it was like for Viv, struggling alone at home. And to forgive.’
Poor Edmund. Nancy couldn’t help but pity him, but she felt humble, for he was right: she couldn’t truly imagine what he’d been through.
‘It’s something I like about you and the others, Nancy,’ Edmund went on. ‘Your freshness and innocence. I can’t tell you what a relief it is to cheer someone up after the loss of a few insects. I’ve so enjoyed our outing.’ His eyes twinkled at her.
She laughed, feeling at ease with him now. ‘So have I,’ she said. ‘And I’m sorry I was petulant. I do like my work and I feel ready to start again tomorrow.’
‘Good,’ he smiled. ‘And don’t be afraid to call on me again. We all need bolstering up from time to time.’ And he signalled to the waitress to bring the bill.
Thirty-One
At Dragonfly Lodge, the afternoon was waning, but there was no sign of Aaron and Livy. Nancy didn’t appear worried, though.
‘They’ve probably gone on somewhere to do something fun – I do hope so.’ A fond expression crossed her face.
Remembering Aaron’s air of anxiety with Livy that morning, Stef hoped so, too. ‘Livy certainly enjoyed the boat trip this morning. It must be nice for you to see so much of her and Aaron.’
‘It is lovely,’ Nancy said, breaking into a smile. ‘I don’t know if Aaron has told you, but I didn’t see much of him when he was growing up.’
‘He sort of hinted at it.’
Nancy sighed at the memory. ‘His mother, Andrea, left home when she was fifteen. We had a bit of trouble with her growing up and she got in with the wrong crowd. It was the early seventies, so you’ll understand the type I mean – thoseawful hippies. We didn’t hear much from her for a long while after that – and then usually when she was short of money. I’m afraid she didn’t wait to get married before having Aaron and we never met his father.’
The way Nancy put it sounded old-fashioned compared to Aaron’s account, but the anguish in her voice tore at Stef’s heart.
‘My husband found it difficult to forgive her for rejecting us. Which was unfair, though I understood why. It’s rather complicated… Eventually, Andrea did settle down. She married an American, a musician from New York whom she met on a plane, and seems happy with him, though he’s fifteen years older than she is and not in the best of health. They live in Mexico now. I don’t often see her, though we do keep in touch.’
