His Diamond Bride

CHAPTER FIVE

DEE’S eighteenth birthday was approaching. There would be a party with all the neighbours and for a few hours everyone would forget the approaching war.

On the night, Mark came to meet her at the bus stop.

‘I’m the delegation sent to escort you home,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Your dad let me leave work a little early so that I could shift the furniture for your mum and help her put up the decorations. She’s baking a cake for you-the best cake ever, with eighteen candles.’

‘Mum always does the best cake ever,’ Dee chuckled. ‘For Sylvia’s twentieth she produced a real masterpiece. Is Sylvia home yet, by the way?’

‘Not yet. She’ll be along soon.’

As they neared the front door they could see the first guests arriving, everyone waving as they saw each other. Laughing, they all hurried in. After that, the bell rang every few minutes and soon the place was full. Except for Sylvia.

‘We’re not waiting for anyone,’ Helen declared. ‘This is your evening. Let’s get on with it.’

There were cards and presents to be opened, laughter to be shared. Afterwards, Dee vaguely recalled these things, but the details blurred in the shock of what came afterwards. Neither she, her parents, nor Mark, would ever quite recover from that shock.

She had slipped into the hall, meaning to fetch something from upstairs, when she noticed an envelope lying on the mat. With a sense of foreboding, she saw that the handwriting was Sylvia’s.

She tore it open, telling herself that her worst fears were realised, but even her worst fears hadn’t prepared her for what she found.

I’m sorry to do this now, but I shan’t be there this evening. I’ve gone away for a long time, maybe for good. I’m in love and I have to be with Phil, no matter what else it means.

A friend has delivered this, so don’t look for me outside the door. I’m already far away.

Say sorry to Mark for me. I didn’t mean to do it this way. Try to make him understand and forgive me. He doesn’t love me really, and he’ll get over it.

Love, Sylvia

She read it again and again, trying to understand that it was real and not some wicked joke. Then life returned to her limbs and she tore open the front door, running out in a frantic search for whoever might have thrust this through the letterbox. But the street was empty in both directions.

Her head spinning, she stumbled back to the house and leaned against the wall, shaking. Mark came out and found her like that.

‘You’re being a long time. Everyone’s asking what-Dee, what is it?’

‘Sylvia,’ she said hoarsely.

He took the note from her hand and read it.

‘Well,’ he said heartily, ‘so that’s that.’

But she wasn’t fooled. She’d glanced up just in time to see his expression in the split second before the mask came down, and she’d never seen such devastation in any man’s face. He actually seemed to wither, mouth growing pinched, eyes closing as if to shut out intolerable pain. The next moment he opened them again and smiled. But the smile only touched his mouth. His eyes were blank.

‘She just vanished without a goodbye,’ he whispered.

‘Mark, I’m so sorry,’ she whispered.

He raised his head. His face was set. ‘Sorry? What for? Sylvia has the right to do as she pleases. We weren’t engaged or anything like that.’

‘But to do it like this-’

‘Not very polite, but if she wants to be with him-’ His voice shook and for a moment he shuddered uncontrollably.

‘Dee, are you coming back in?’ It was her mother’s voice, approaching.

Swiftly, Mark put the letter into his pocket.

‘Say nothing until the party’s over,’ he said.

He was right. She wilted at the thought of telling her parents about this. Their eyes met and they each took a deep breath before heading back into the house.

Someone had brought a gramophone and a collection of dance records, which mercifully made talk impossible for some time. But there was no hiding the way people looked at Mark, or the almost tangible curiosity about Sylvia’s absence.

And how they would laugh, she thought angrily. Mark’s popularity had always contained a touch of jealousy, even spite. Every girl who’d yearned for him, every young man who’d envied him, would relish seeing him undermined now.

A fierce desire to protect him made her grasp his hand, saying, ‘Dance with me, Mark. It’s my birthday, and I get to choose.’

He seized her with what might have been eagerness, but she sensed mainly relief that with her he could briefly drop the bright mask.

I wonder where Sylvia’s got to. Do you think Mark knows? The words floated indistinctly through the crowd. Impossible to say who’d uttered them, and nor did it matter.

‘Ignore that,’ she told him. ‘The fact is, you knew Sylvia wasn’t going to be here, and you’re completely relaxed about it.’

‘Am I?’

‘All you can think about now is enjoying yourself with me,’ she persisted, meeting his eyes urgently and trying to convey her message. ‘Hold me close and look deep into my eyes, as though I was all you cared about in the world.’

If only…

He nodded, understanding and following her lead with a good deal of skill. The house was tiny and ‘dancing’ consisted mainly of taking small steps from side to side, but that, too, was useful, because their ‘audience’ had a close-up view of the performance.

‘Smile,’ she whispered, favouring him with a dazzling smile of her own. ‘Pretend I’m Sylvia.’

He managed to stretch his lips, although his eyes were still blank. Dee raised her head so that her mouth was closer to his, not kissing, but conveying the impression that she would kiss him if they were alone.

Suddenly she clutched her head and said, ‘Oh, I’ve got such a headache.’

‘It’s getting late,’ Helen said. ‘It’s been a nice evening, but-’

Obediently, everyone began to drift off. It wasn’t really late at all, but everyone knew ‘something was up’.

‘Shame Sylvia couldn’t make it,’ someone murmured. ‘I wonder what kept her.’

There were several curious looks at Mark, then everyone was gone.

‘Right, what is it?’ Helen demanded, looking from one to the other. ‘What are you two keeping a secret?’

‘Sylvia’s gone away, Mum,’ Dee said. ‘She left a letter.’

Mark handed it over and Helen read it, her face becoming like stone.

‘She’s with a man,’ she said harshly. ‘My daughter’s a bad girl?’ She glared at Mark. ‘What do you know about this? Why didn’t you stop her?’

‘Because I didn’t know.’

‘You’re supposed to have been courting her all this time. Why didn’t you protect her?’

Dee forced herself to be silent. She longed to cry out that someone should have protected Mark from Sylvia’s treachery, but he would have hated that. She contented herself with saying, ‘Why don’t you save your anger for Phil?’

‘Just who is he?’ Helen demanded.

‘I think I saw him once, when I went to collect her from the shop,’ Mark said. ‘They were giggling together. We had a row about it.’

Suddenly Helen burst into sobs. Dee moved towards her, but her father appeared from the doorway where he’d been hovering and signalled for them to go. She left them in each other’s arms, while she and Mark went out into the garden.

Once outside, Mark leaned against the wall, dazed like a man in a nightmare.

‘We can’t just leave it there,’ he said. ‘I have to find her, but I don’t know how.’

‘She said she was already far away,’ Dee recalled. ‘They’ll probably know more at the shop. It’s my half-day tomorrow. I’ll go over and see what I can find out.’

‘Shall I come with you?’ he asked quietly.

She knew what it cost him to make the suggestion, for she felt everything with him: the pain of revealing himself as the rejected one, the shame of admitting how he’d been deceived, the awareness of smothered grins. Her heart ached for him.

‘It’s best if I go alone,’ she assured him. ‘They’ll talk more freely to me.’

‘Thank you.’ That was all he said, but she knew he’d divined her understanding and was grateful.

She went to the shop the next day and returned home that evening with a heavy heart.

‘They all know Phil,’ she said. ‘He’s the rep for a clothing firm so he was in and out quite a lot, and they got to know each other.’

‘But why did they run away?’ Helen asked wretchedly. ‘Why not just get married?’

‘They can’t,’ Dee said reluctantly. ‘It seems that Phil is already married.’

Helen gave a little scream and covered her face. Joe grew pale and said, ‘I don’t believe it. A married man, and she’s living with him. She wouldn’t do anything so wicked.’

‘I’m afraid it’s true,’ Dee said. ‘His wife was in the shop when I arrived. She’d come looking for him. They have two children and he seems to have just left them all.’

She was giving them only half the story, but there was no way she could tell them about the other things she’d learned-about Sylvia’s reputation as a minx who routinely flirted with any man, and perhaps more. His abandoned wife had gone further, calling Sylvia a prostitute, but this, too, she would always keep to herself.

At last Helen dropped her hands and lifted her head. Her face was hard. ‘She’s no daughter of mine,’ she said. ‘As far as I’m concerned, she’s dead.’

‘Mum!’ Dee protested.

‘She never sets foot in this house again. She’s not my daughter.’

Dee turned to her father.

‘I don’t know,’ he said helplessly. ‘Perhaps your mother knows best. Sylvia has put us out of her life.’

‘But maybe she’ll need our help.’

‘She’s dead to me,’ Helen said stonily. She rose and kissed Dee’s cheek. ‘You are my only daughter now. Remember that.’

She stalked out of the room, followed by Joe.

‘I’m going out,’ Mark said. ‘I need to get drunk.’

‘Let me come with you. We’ll get drunk together.’

She had no intention of drinking, but she wasn’t going to turn him loose upon the world in his present state. Taking him firmly by the hand, she led him out of the house. She, too, was in shock, but she’d had time to think about things on the way home. Mark was still stunned. When he spoke, it was in short, jerky sentences.

‘How long has it been going on?’ he asked.

‘I…can’t say,’ she said, not entirely truthfully.

‘Tell me,’ he said violently. ‘Don’t spare my feelings. I want to know the truth, however bad.’

The truth was that Sylvia had been playing them off against each other for at least two months, perhaps longer. Dee had encountered Philip Mason once, a burly man in his thirties, pleasant enough but uninspiring. How Sylvia could have preferred him to the dashing Mark baffled her.

‘It was a few weeks,’ she said vaguely.

‘And I thought she loved me. I respected her, do you know that? I thought she was a decent girl and I didn’t…well, anyway, I respected her. And all the time she was…well…’

They walked on in silence for a while. Dee had tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and kept it there determinedly, lest he escape and do something that might harm him.

‘Don’t brood about it,’ she begged. ‘It can’t do any good now.’

‘It might teach me to be more wary of girls another time. How everyone will laugh at me.’

To comfort him, she denied it, but her words were hollow. Their performance at the party would help only for a short time. The truth would soon seep out.

‘They don’t matter,’ she said urgently. ‘You must thumb your nose at them. All they need to know is that you and Sylvia have split up-’

‘Because she preferred someone else.’

‘No, she pretended to prefer someone else because she knew you’d lost interest.’

‘Who’ll believe that?’

This was what Dee had been preparing for, when she must risk everything on one throw of the dice. To the last moment she wasn’t sure if she had the nerve, but then she took a deep breath and threw her fate to the winds.

‘Everyone will believe it,’ she said, ‘if you’re seen with another girl.’

‘But how can I do that to any girl-deceive her into thinking I’m interested when I’m just playing a part?’

‘But if she already knew the truth, you wouldn’t have to deceive her,’ Dee pointed out.

‘But who would-?’ He stopped as her meaning started to get through to him. ‘Are you saying that you’d be willing to-?’

‘It can’t be anyone but me,’ she said. ‘You said once I was your best friend. Well, friends help each other out. One day I’ll ask you to do something for me.’

‘Is that a promise?’ he demanded harshly. ‘Because I must give you something back.’

‘It’s a promise.’

‘I still don’t understand. How do we go about this?’

‘Look down that road,’ she said, pointing. ‘Those three people coming this way were at the party. Now they’re turning into The Dancing Duck, so we’ll go there, too.’

‘They’ll be our first audience,’ he said, catching her mood.

‘That’s right. They’re looking at us. Put your arm around my shoulders-that’s it! Are you ready?’

‘Quite ready. Sound the bugles! Forward march!’

Defiantly, they raised their heads and walked on into battle.

Eyes turned towards them as they went into the public house. Apparently unaware, they found a corner table and sat talking quietly while he sipped a beer and she an orange juice.

She knew, because Sylvia had told her, that they had often come here together, sometimes alone, sometimes in a group of their friends, the very ones who were glancing at them now, while trying to seem as if they weren’t.

‘Come to think of it, there was always something slightly wrong between us,’ Mark brooded. ‘She was so beautiful and I wanted her like mad, but we never seemed to talk about much. Not that we needed much talking, but when we did-I don’t know-there was nothing there. I kept meaning to back away, but then she’d give me that look and I’d melt.’

‘I know,’ she said softly.

‘You do?’

‘I saw you melt.’

‘Yes, you don’t say much, but you see a lot more than most people, don’t you? You saw what a fool I was.’

‘You weren’t a fool,’ she insisted. ‘Everyone gets carried away by their feelings sometimes.’

‘Not you, I’ll bet,’ he said with a faint friendly grin.

‘I’m just eighteen; there hasn’t been time,’ she said with an air of primness.

‘That’s not the reason. You’ve got your feet on the ground, not like the rest of us.’

My feet aren’t on the ground, she thought. I’m floating on air because I’m with you. If only I could risk telling you, but I can’t because you’d run a mile.

Instead, she spoke brightly, sounding confident. ‘All right, I’m sensible and I know what I’m doing, so you listen and take my advice.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Stretch your arm a little way across the table so that your hand’s close to mine, but not touching.’

He did so.

‘Inch your fingers just a little bit further.’

‘As though I was longing to touch you but didn’t dare,’ he suggested.

‘That’s right. You’ve got the idea.’

He did it perfectly, fingers almost brushing hers, drawing back quickly, then venturing forth again. She wondered how often he’d done this for real, teasing a girl into thinking that he was her humble suppliant, and involuntarily gave a small choke of laughter.

‘What’s so funny?’ he asked. ‘Aren’t I doing it right?’

‘Perfectly. In fact, too perfectly. This is how you get the girls to like you, isn’t it? Make them think you’re meek and hesitant, and they’re in control.’

‘You are in control,’ he pointed out.

‘But you’re not trying to win my heart. I mean the others. I’ll bet it works with them.’

He grinned. ‘Sometimes. Some like it that way, some like a man to seem more dominant. I have to vary it.’

‘You’re a cheeky so-and-so,’ she said.

‘That’s another approach that pays dividends,’ he admitted. ‘All right, all right, I know we’re only play-acting. I’m not aiming to win dividends from you, I promise. I wouldn’t dare.’

‘Just don’t forget that,’ she said, trying to sound stern.

At the same moment they both burst out laughing. Heads turned at the sight of Mark Sellon having such a good time with Sylvia’s sister, then nodded wisely. Aha! Perhaps that was the reason Sylvia had vanished.

‘Permission to touch your fingers,’ Mark murmured.

‘Just a little.’

His fingertips brushed hers, withdrew, advanced again, paused, withdrew.

‘Don’t overdo the meek bit,’ she advised.

‘I’m nervous. I fear your rejection.’

She choked again. ‘Stop it,’ she said in a quivering voice. ‘I can’t keep a straight face. You don’t do “nervous” very convincingly. It doesn’t come naturally to you.’

For answer, he took her hand in his, letting them lie together on the table.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I feel happier holding your hand. I’m not sure I could cope without you. I’m just so confused by all this-’

His grip tightened suddenly. Dee didn’t speak, but grasped him in return, knowing it was the only comfort that would get through to him now. He smiled and nodded to say he understood, and they stayed like that in silence until he said, ‘Let’s go. Getting drunk doesn’t seem like such a good idea any more.’

Hand in hand, they rose and headed for the door.

‘They’re watching us,’ she murmured.

‘Then let’s give them something to watch,’ he said, pulling her close and laying his mouth on hers.

It was gentle, not passionate; a kiss for show, with just enough there to tell the onlookers what they wanted to know, then it was over and he escorted her out.

‘You didn’t mind my doing that?’ he asked as they walked away.

‘No, it was very clever,’ she assured him breathlessly. ‘Just what we needed to finish the show.’ With an effort, she assumed a comically lofty tone. ‘I thought we did that rather well.’

‘So do I. In fact, I think I can hear applause.’

As one, they stopped and took elaborate bows to an unseen audience. People walking in the street hurried to the other side, well away from this alarming pair.

‘You see that?’ she said. ‘They think we’re mad.’

‘How could anybody think that?’ he demanded dramatically.

‘Anyone who knows us, I imagine.’

He tightened his arm around her, not to kiss her now, but to lean sideways and let his cheek rest against her hair.

‘Yes, they don’t know the half of it,’ he agreed.

‘But at least we’re mad together. We have that.’

‘It’s the only thing that’s keeping me sane right now.’

At her doorway, he stopped, saying, ‘Let me take you out somewhere tomorrow night.’

‘Yes, we must be convincing.’

‘No, that’s not the reason. I want to thank you for everything you’re doing. I don’t know how you put up with me.’

‘I work hard at it.’

‘Good. Don’t stop. Tomorrow night, then.’

‘Actually, I can’t,’ she said with dismay. ‘I’m working tomorrow night, and every night until the end of this week.’

‘You’re not trying to dump me already, are you? At least it took Sylvia four months to get fed up with me.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ she chuckled. ‘I’m on duty at the hospital. I’m a working woman.’

‘Then I’ll wait on your pleasure. Let me know the first night you can manage.’

He hesitated, and for a blissful moment she thought he would kiss her. And he did. But only on the tip of her nose. Then he walked away, fast.

Dee entered the house quietly, hoping that her parents would have gone to bed, but they were still up. To her relief, they greeted her calmly and Helen had softened towards Mark.

‘I was a bit hard on him, wasn’t I? It’s not his fault. Is he all right?’

‘He’s coping. I’m trying to help him,’ Dee said. ‘But he needs time. I’m going to bed now. Goodnight.’

She hurried away, unable to endure any more talking. She wanted to be alone with her memories of the evening. Mark’s heart was still Sylvia’s, and she knew she was a long way from the fulfilment of her dream. But for a while she’d had him to herself, enjoyed his whole attention, felt his lips on hers.

In bed she snuggled down, pulling the blankets over her head so that the world was reduced to this tiny space where she could relive his kiss again and again, and dream of the time when it would be truly meant for her.

‘One day,’ she whispered. ‘One day soon-please-’

She was young enough to believe that if she desired something fiercely enough she could make it happen. Wasn’t he already half hers? It was just a question of being patient. She was smiling as she fell asleep.

For the next few days she saw him only briefly as he arrived for work in the garage. Her hours were full as her duties increased. Although still technically a student, she was at the top of her class and often assigned to extra duties around the hospital. These were always carried out under the eagle-eye of her superiors, but she was trusted more than any of the others, due to Mr Royce’s recommendation. He seldom praised her to her face. But she came to realise that he expressed a high opinion of her to others.

When she tried to thank him, he was polite but reserved.

‘You must all become the best nurses in the world,’ he said, ‘because you’ll soon be needed.’

‘You really believe there’ll be a war?’

‘Certainly I do. And so does every thinking person. Now get to work and pass those exams in style.’

From Sylvia there was no word, but one evening, as she was leaving for work, she found a letter for her at the reception desk. It had been delivered by hand.

I dare not write to you at home, in case Mum finds the letter first and tears it up. I know Mum will say I’m a disgrace to the family, and Dad will agree with her because he always does. But perhaps I can explain to you, make you understand.

You’re wondering how I could ever have left Mark, aren’t you? You see, I know how you feel about him. It was there in your eyes when you weren’t guarding them.

I did once think I was in love with him. Any girl would feel that. He’s good-looking, charming and fun. They were all after him and I felt proud that he’d chosen me. But then things went wrong. He seemed to feel that he had the right to do as he liked and never mind anyone else. He didn’t mean to be selfish but he’s made that way. If he wanted to flirt, he flirted. If I showed that I minded, I was ‘making a fuss about nothing’.

On New Year’s Eve, when you saw me fooling around with other lads, I was only trying to make Mark jealous. Even back then he was too sure of me. I thought it wouldn’t hurt him to know he’s not the only man in the world, but it didn’t really work because he’s so self-confident.

Do you remember that talk we had one night, when I said that there were other men who wanted me? I think I already knew that Phil was the one. I know he’s married, and it’s wrong. I’m a ‘bad girl’. But he’s kind and gentle, and he loves me. He tries to please me because it matters to him that I’m happy. Mark never cared in that way.

There was one final paragraph that stood out starkly.

Be careful, my dear. Don’t let Mark hurt you, which he could do very easily. I was lucky. I saw through him, but you might not. Love him a little, if you must, but don’t give him your whole heart. He won’t know what to do with it.

Dee couldn’t read any more. Inside her was a storm of confused feelings. Selfish. Inconsiderate. Self-centred. That was how Sylvia saw Mark, and it wasn’t true. How could she say such things? They weren’t true!

Then the real reason came to her. Sylvia was simply trying to justify herself at Mark’s expense. The relief was enormous. Of course he wasn’t anything like that.

But you were, my darling. In some ways, you were like two men. One was the man who behaved so generously over the ruined bike, and was so tender and kind to Billy.

The other man was exactly as Sylvia had described. And why not? You were twenty-three and far too handsome for your own good, never mind anyone else’s. You looked like a film star, people treated you like a film star, and so you acted like a film star. It’s amazing that you were as kind and sweet-tempered as you were.

I didn’t see it, of course. These days, a girl of eighteen can be sophisticated, but in those days you were still practically a child, under your parents’ authority. I was far too immature myself to recognise immaturity in you, or I might have noticed that Sylvia’s actions hurt your pride more than your heart. I thought you were perfect, and I tried to forget what she’d said about you.

But I couldn’t. Now and then there’d be a moment when I saw what she’d been talking about, despite how much I loved you.

Why are you sleeping so restlessly? Are you having those troubled dreams again? You haven’t had them for years, but I suppose the party tonight brought it all back. There, there! Let me make it better, like I did before. You always said there was no one like me to help you fight the nightmares.

Hush, my darling! I’m here…I’m here.