His Diamond Bride

CHAPTER TWO

December 1938

‘ANY sign of them yet?’ Helen Parsons’ voice sang out from the kitchen.

Dee, her seventeen-year-old daughter, paused from studying a box of Christmas decorations and went to the window. The narrow London street outside seemed empty, but the darkness made it hard to see far so she slipped out of the front door and down the small garden to the gate.

‘Not a sign,’ she said, returning to the house and hurriedly closing the door.

Her mother appeared, frowning. ‘Have you been out without a coat, in this weather?’

‘Just for a moment.’

‘You’ll catch your death of cold. You’re a nurse; you should have more sense.’

Dee chuckled good-humouredly. ‘It’s a bit soon to call me a nurse. I’ve barely started my training.’

‘Don’t tell your father that. He’s dead proud of you. He tells everyone that his daughter became a nurse because she’s the bright one of the family.’

The bright one, Dee thought wryly. Her older sister, Sylvia, was the beautiful one, and she was the bright one.

‘Now, don’t start that again,’ her mother said, reading her face without trouble.

‘It’s just that sometimes I’d like to be gorgeous, like Sylvia,’ Dee said wistfully.

‘Nonsense, you’re pretty enough.’ She bustled back to the kitchen, leaving Dee to gaze into the mirror.

She had pleasant, regular features under short brown hair, with dark brown expressive eyes. Pretty enough. That was about the best anyone could say and, if it hadn’t been for Sylvia, Dee might have been content with it. But when she compared Sylvia’s luscious features with her own, which were pleasant but not spectacular, she knew she could never be content.

Her figure was slender, almost too much so, which would have pleased many girls. But they didn’t have the constant comparison with Sylvia’s ripe curves. Dee didn’t appreciate her own shape-with all the yearning of seventeen, she wanted Sylvia’s.

She wanted to be beautiful, she wanted boyfriends trailing after her, and a throaty, seductive voice. Instead, she was ‘the bright one’ and ‘pretty enough’. As though that was any comfort. Honestly! Older people just didn’t understand.

‘I wonder what this one’s like,’ her mother said, returning with a duster that she put into Dee’s hand.

No need to ask who ‘this one’ was. Yet another of Sylvia’s conquests. There were so many.

‘She’ll get a bad name, having a new young man every week,’ Helen observed.

‘But at least she’s got some choice,’ Dee observed wistfully. ‘Not like being stuck with Charlie Whatsit down the road, or the man who comes round with the pies every week.’

‘I don’t want this family being talked about,’ Helen said firmly. ‘It isn’t nice. Anyway, what about all those doctors you meet at the hospital?’

‘They don’t look at student nurses. We’re the lowest of the low.’

‘The patients, then. You wait, you’ll meet a millionaire. He’ll take one look at you and fall madly in love.’

They laughed together and Dee said, ‘Mum, you’ve been reading those romantic novels again. That’s just dreaming. Real life isn’t like that-unless you’re Sylvia, of course. I wish she’d hurry up and get here. I’m longing to see her latest.’

Sylvia worked in an elegant dress shop on the far side of London. As Christmas neared, business was booming and her hours were longer. Today she was arriving home late, along with her new young man.

Mark Sellon was a mechanic, newly out of work because his employer had lost all his money. Sylvia was bringing him home for Christmas in the hope that her father could offer him a job in the tiny garage he owned beside the house in Crimea Street. In that shabby corner of London, Joe Parsons counted as a prosperous man.

‘Of course, he might simply be a good mechanic, and she’s bringing him for Dad’s sake,’ Dee mused.

‘Then why would she want us to invite him to stay the night? By the way, have you finished putting the spare bed into her room?’

‘Yes, but-’

‘You’ll sleep there with Sylvia. And make sure you stay with her as much as possible. I don’t want any hanky-panky in this house.’

‘You mean-?’

‘Yes, that’s exactly what I mean, so you see that Sylvia behaves herself. Thank goodness I don’t have to worry about you!’

Dee knew better than to answer this. To say that she yearned to be a ‘bad girl’, in theory if not in practice, would bring motherly wrath down about her head and she had some urgent dusting to do.

In this she was helped by Billy, the family dog, an enormous mongrel who tackled everything with gusto. His contribution to the cleaning was to follow Dee everywhere, pouncing on the dusters and shaking them.

‘Let go,’ she told him, trying to sound stern and not succeeding. ‘Billy, I shall get cross with you.’

His glance said he’d heard that before and knew better than to believe it.

‘Stop it, you idiot!’ she said through laughter, managing to rescue a duster. His response was to seize another and run off.

‘You haven’t got time for play,’ Helen said, appearing. ‘They’ll be here soon.’

‘Yes, Mum.’

She applied herself to the work, finished it as soon as possible, then said, ‘I’m taking Billy for a walk. He needs exercise or he won’t behave himself.’

‘All right, but don’t be too long.’

She pulled on a thick coat and slipped out of the door, with Billy on a lead. It was a beautiful clear night, stars and moon shining down with a dazzling intensity that revealed her surroundings sharply.

‘Shame there’s no snow,’ she mused. ‘Never mind. Still, a little time before Christmas Day… All right Billy, I’m coming.’

Down the street he hauled her, across the road into another long street and down a narrow path that went along a string of back gardens. Voices greeted her as she went, for she had lived here all her life and knew the neighbours.

Now Billy was on his way back, taking her for a walk rather than the other way round. As they reached Crimea Street, she heard a sound in the distance, quickly growing louder and louder until it was deafening.

Then she saw a motorbike turning the corner, coming towards her, driven by someone in a helmet and goggles that obscured his head. In the sidecar was another person, also mysterious until it raised an arm to wave at her and Dee realised that it was Sylvia.

So the driver must be her young man. Dee stared in wonder. She’d sometimes seen motorbikes being repaired in her father’s garage, but she knew nobody who actually owned one.

The bike stopped and the driver got off to help Sylvia out, then remove her helmet. She clung to him, wide-eyed.

‘Oh, goodness!’ she gasped. ‘That was-that was-’

‘Are you all right?’ Dee asked.

Sylvia’s response was to release her companion and throw her arms around Dee as if her legs were giving way beneath her, so that Dee had to support her.

She glanced at the young man. He was removing his goggles and the first part of him she saw was a smiling mouth-something she afterwards remembered all her life.

Then his whole face was revealed-handsome, lively, full of pleasure.

‘Sorry if I was a bit noisy,’ he said ruefully. ‘When I’m going really fast the excitement tends to carry me away. I’m afraid I’ve offended your neighbours.’

The words sounded contrite but there was nothing contrite about him. He’d enjoyed himself to the full and was fizzing with delight. All around them curtains were being pulled back, shocked faces appearing at windows. He greeted them with a cheeky wave before turning back to Sylvia.

‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you.’

‘I never dreamed you’d go so fast,’ Sylvia gasped. ‘It was-oh, goodness!’

She took a deep breath and remembered her manners. ‘Mark, this is my sister, Dee. Dee, this is Mark.’

Now Dee could look at him properly and her head swam. He was too good-looking to be true. It didn’t happen outside the cinema. She held out her hand and from a distance heard him saying that Sylvia had told him all about her.

‘Nothing bad, I hope,’ she said mechanically and immediately cursed herself for talking nonsense. But it was as much as she could do to talk at all.

A moment ago she’d been content with life trundling along in the same old way. Now it was as though a thunderbolt had struck her.

‘Let’s get inside,’ Sylvia said. ‘It’s freezing out here.’

Joe and Helen had come to the door to see what all the commotion was about. The sight of Mark wheeling his motorbike brought Joe hurrying down the path of the tiny front garden.

‘That’s yours?’ he asked with a hint of awe.

‘Yes. Is there somewhere I can put it?’

‘In my garage next door. I’ll show you the way.’

When the two men had vanished, Helen said, ‘Well! So that’s him! Noisy young fellow, isn’t he?’

‘He likes people to know he’s there,’ Sylvia said.

‘Hmm! Not the retiring type, obviously.’

‘Nobody could call Mark the retiring type,’ Sylvia agreed, following her mother into the house.

In the better light Helen could see her daughter properly and was horrified.

‘What are you wearing?’ she demanded. ‘What’s that-thing in your hands?’

‘I wear it on my head, and these are goggles to protect my eyes.’

‘What do you want to go gadding around on that contraption, dressed like that for? To suit him?’

It was clear that Mark had got off on the wrong foot with Helen. With Joe, however, he had better luck. The motorbike had made an excellent impression and, as Dee watched them returning to the house, she could see that they were already in perfect accord.

‘So now your dad’s found someone to talk nuts and bolts with, he’s happy,’ Helen observed. ‘I reckon that lad’s got the job already.’

Then it happened. Mark threw back his head and roared with laughter, a rich, vibrant sound that streamed up to the heavens. It seemed to invade Dee through and through, filling her with helpless delight. All of life was in that sound; everything good and hopeful, all that was promising for the future. How could anything possibly go wrong with the world when a young man could laugh like that?

But then, mysteriously, she knew a flicker of alarm, as though a hidden danger was approaching her behind a smiling front. But it passed and she chided herself for being fanciful. Sylvia had found herself a pleasant young man. Surely all was well?

‘Are you two coming in for your tea?’ Helen called, and the two men obediently returned to the house.

Some instinct seemed to warn Mark that he was doing badly with Helen. He behaved charmingly, thanking her for allowing him to stay for Christmas.

‘Any friend of Sylvia’s is a friend of ours,’ Helen said politely, and Dee might have imagined that she slightly emphasised ‘friend’. ‘Joe needs a good mechanic, so I hope things work out.’

‘He is a good mechanic, Mum,’ Sylvia said eagerly. ‘The best.’

‘Well, we’ll see. It’s almost teatime and I expect you’re starving, Mr Sellon.’

‘Please, call me Mark. And yes, I’m starving.’

‘Come upstairs and unpack first,’ Sylvia suggested. ‘Where’s he sleeping, Mum?’

‘In Dee’s room,’ Helen said. ‘She’ll be in with you.’

‘I thought Dee was going to sleep on the sofa down here,’ Sylvia protested. ‘That’s what you said this morning.’

Helen dropped her voice to say, ‘I’ve changed my mind. Now, get going and tea will be ready in a few minutes.’

At that moment Joe Parsons signalled for Mark to join him in the sitting room. Sylvia went too and, when they were safely out of earshot, Helen said, ‘If she thinks I’m letting her be alone in that room while he’s here-well! That’s all I can say.’

There was no need for her to say more. Her suspicions stood out brilliantly.

‘You think he’d-you know-?’

‘Not now, he won’t,’ Helen said with grim satisfaction.

‘He’s very good-looking, isn’t he?’ Dee ventured.

‘Hmm. Handsome is as handsome does.’

‘Mum! It’s not his fault he’s handsome.’

‘Did I say it was? But they’re the ones you have to watch, that’s all. Now, go and lay the table.’

Over tea, Mark told them about himself. He was twenty-three and lived on the other side of London in a hostel for respectable young men. His father had died when he was six and he’d been reared by his mother alone.

‘She had no family, and my father’s family had disapproved of their marriage, so I don’t think they helped her much. She died a couple of years ago.’

‘So you’ve got nobody?’ Helen asked with a touch of sympathy.

‘Not really. I trained as a mechanic because my father was one. Luckily, I took to it and now I’m only happy with a spanner in my hand. I had a good job in a garage. At least I thought it was a good job, but the owner lost all his money, the garage was sold to someone who brought his own workforce in, and I was fired.’

‘How did you get that motorbike?’ Joe asked in a voice full of envy. ‘Don’t they cost a fortune?’

‘Yes, they do,’ Mark agreed, ‘so I had to use rather unusual methods. It belonged to the son of the man buying the garage. He wanted to sell it because he was getting a new one. I couldn’t afford even the second-hand price, so I bet him he couldn’t beat me at cards.’ The gleam in his eyes had a touch of charming wickedness. ‘And he couldn’t.’

‘No,’ Joe breathed in awe. ‘You’re a bit of a devil, aren’t you?’

‘I hope so,’ Mark said, sounding comically shocked. ‘What’s the point otherwise?’

‘Hmm!’ Helen said disapprovingly.

‘I didn’t cheat, Mrs Parsons,’ Mark assured her. ‘I just-tempted him a bit further than he’d meant to go.’

‘That’s what the devil does,’ Dee said triumphantly, and was rewarded with his blazing grin that seemed to fill the room.

Helen frowned, disapproving. Sylvia looked as though she was struggling to keep up.

Afterwards, the men retired to the garage while the girls helped their mother in the kitchen.

‘If you ask me, he’s a bad lad,’ Helen said.

‘Why, Mum, whatever do you mean?’ Sylvia asked.

‘I mean he’s the sort who goes around telling the world he’s there all the time, like he did tonight. You watch out, my girl. Don’t you go getting yourself into trouble.’

‘Mum,’ Dee protested, ‘that’s not fair. Sylvia’s a good girl.’

Sylvia said nothing.

‘Maybe she is, maybe she isn’t,’ Helen said. ‘I’m taking no chances, not with him looking like he came off a cinema screen.’

‘He is handsome, isn’t he?’ Sylvia said eagerly.

‘Yes, he is-too handsome for his good or yours. That’s why Dee’s going to be with you in your room tonight. I don’t want any of your nonsense.’

‘Why, Mum, I don’t know what you mean,’ Sylvia said, earnestly enough to fool anyone who didn’t know her.

‘You know exactly what I mean, young lady. You behave yourself.’

Behind her mother’s back, Sylvia made a face, but gave up arguing. Nobody won against Helen and they all knew it. When it was time to go to bed, she drew Mark aside in the hall, signalling for Deirdre to go on ahead.

Dee hesitated, mindful of her mother’s orders to keep a strict eye on them. But Helen herself was only a few feet away in the kitchen and surely one little goodnight kiss couldn’t do any harm?

‘Go on,’ Sylvia said urgently, jerking her head to the stairs and at last Dee obeyed, trying to sort out her thoughts.

There was another reason for her reluctance to leave them alone; one she couldn’t admit to herself because she didn’t fully understand it. It made no sense. After all, Mark was Sylvia’s property.

Wasn’t he?

Upstairs, she undressed slowly, trying not to let her mind dwell on the two lovers enjoying a tender embrace. In bed, she read for a little while, waiting for Sylvia to appear, but nothing happened.

When she could stand it no longer, she crept out into the hall and listened to the soft sounds coming from the bottom of the stairs, trying to picture what they would be doing.

Dee was a child of her time. At seventeen, she’d never known a passionate kiss, or even a non-passionate one. Nor had she seen one, unless you included Robert Taylor kissing Greta Garbo in the film of Camille. Apart from that, her knowledge of men and women was gleaned from her studies as a nurse, technical information that told her nothing of the passionate reality. About that she was as ignorant and innocent as any other respectable girl.

But tonight something had changed, making her aware of feelings and sensations that had existed beyond her consciousness. Mark had smiled at her, and he’d sat opposite her at the table, where she could see his face all the time. And nothing was the same. Now she was all avid curiosity to explore, but how could she? Mark was off-limits, and no other man existed.

From downstairs came a soft gasp followed by smothered laughter and a murmuring sound, telling of pleasure enjoyed to the full. Dee closed her eyes, her heart pounding, her breath coming in long gasps. She wanted-what? She couldn’t tell. She only knew that she yearned for something above and beyond anything she’d known before.

From the kitchen came the sound of Helen banging pots and pans about, letting them know she was still there and they’d better stop what they were doing. Next moment Dee heard footsteps approaching and hurriedly retreated into the bedroom. By the time Sylvia came in, she was huddled down under the covers.

‘Hello,’ she murmured in a carefully sleepy voice. ‘Have you said your goodnights?’

‘Yes, thank you.’ Sylvia sounded pleased with herself. ‘What do you think of him?’

‘He’s all right. That motorbike is amazing, though.’

‘Oh, the bike!’ Sylvia said dismissively.

‘I thought you liked it. It must be wonderful to ride with him.’

‘Well, it isn’t. I thought I was going to die. Of course I didn’t tell him, he’s so proud of it. You should hear him talk! He’s just as bad about cars.’

‘You don’t sound as though you have much in common,’ Dee observed casually.

‘You wait until I get to work on him. He’ll do anything for me. I’ll have him just the way I want in no time.’

Dee didn’t answer this, but something told her Sylvia was wrong. Beneath Mark’s easy-going charm, she suspected a stubborn will to have his own way.

And yet, how could she tell? she wondered. What did she know of him, except that he was more good-looking than any man had the right to be, that he could make her laugh, and that his mind had a link with her own. At the table they had shared the ‘devil’ joke, which Sylvia hadn’t understood, and that had been the sweetest moment.

More than sixty years later, it still lived in her mind.

I didn’t know what had happened to me that night. I thought you were wonderful, but I had no idea of falling in love with you because I didn’t know what love was. I only knew I was happy because you were going to stay with us for a few days. You dazzled me, and I didn’t think there could be anything better in the world. That’s how naive I was.

What is it, darling-are you restless? That’s it, curl up against me and go back to sleep. That noise downstairs is them clearing up after the party. I suppose I ought to have offered to help, but I just wanted to be with you and think of all the things that have happened to us.

So many things-so many tears, so much laughter. So long ago, and yet not really a long time at all. I woke up next morning feeling so happy…

She had to be up very early to start work at the hospital and the day was still dark as she left the house, yet the world was mysteriously flooded with light.

At the bottom of the street was a bus stop, from which she could just see the front of the house, and the room that was normally hers. While waiting for the bus, she watched the window and saw it raised and Mark’s head come out. He noticed her and waved. She waved back, feeling that the day had had a perfect start.

When she returned in the late afternoon, she saw Sylvia walking Billy in the street.

‘I had to get out of the house,’ she said crossly. ‘Mark’s spent the day in the garage with Dad and now neither of them can talk about anything but engines. Honestly! You’d think I didn’t exist!’

‘I suppose he has to think about engines some of the time,’ Dee said mildly.

‘Yes, but not when I’m there.’

‘He’s probably trying to impress Dad so that he can take this job and be near you.’

‘Yes, that must be it,’ Sylvia said, slightly mollified. ‘But I’m going to find a way to get him out of the house tonight and have him all to myself.’

They had reached home by now. There was no sign of Mark, and Sylvia went looking for him. When she’d gone, he appeared so promptly that Dee was sure he’d been avoiding her.

‘Is she still annoyed with me?’ he whispered.

Mischievously, Dee nodded. ‘You’ve been talking about engines all day, and that’s a terrible crime.’

‘Do all women find it boring?’ he asked.

‘Mostly, I suppose.’

‘What about you? Doesn’t a hospital need machines of some sort?’

‘Yes, we do, and I’m learning how to work them, but I suppose it’s more interesting if you’re doing things yourself rather than just hearing about them.’

He pulled a face full of good-natured resignation, spreading his hands as if to say-what was he supposed to do?

‘I keep getting it wrong,’ he sighed. ‘Sooner or later I always annoy women.’

She was about to tell him not to talk nonsense when she connected with the teasing look in his eye and in the same moment she was invaded by a sweet warmth that shook her to the soul.

‘I can believe that,’ she said in a voice that trembled slightly. ‘In fact, I can’t imagine how any woman puts up with you.’

‘Neither can I,’ he chuckled.

‘Mark, are you there?’

Sylvia’s voice brought them both back to reality. Dee thought she spotted a brief look of exasperation on his face, but it vanished at the sight of her, smiling again and so lovely that Dee knew she herself was forgotten.

Supper was a cheerful meal. Joe was warm in his praise of Mark’s abilities. The job offer was confirmed, and it was understood that he would stay with them until after Christmas, when he could start looking for a place of his own.

Afterwards, Sylvia announced that she and Mark were going to the cinema. ‘There’s that new film at the Odeon, A Christmas Carol. Mark’s longing to see it.’

‘Why, what a coincidence!’ Helen exclaimed. ‘Dee’s been saying how much she wants to see it. You can all go together.’

‘Mum, I can go another time,’ Dee muttered, appalled by this blatant manipulation.

‘Nonsense, you go now. You’ve been working hard. Clear off, the three of you. Have a good time.’

Sylvia seethed at having a chaperone forced on her. Dee was ready to sink into the ground at the suspicion of what Mark must be thinking. But when she dared to meet his eyes, she found them alive with fun.

Of course, she thought. He must have been in this situation a thousand times. The world was full of mothers trying to shield their daughters from his looks and charm.

She felt better. And the thought of an evening in his company was blissful. It was Sylvia who sulked.