Chapter 13

Longthorn Manor, April 17 th , 1943

T he sleek, black train steamed into Exeter station at half past three in the afternoon. The journey had been long, and the conditions cramped, with soldiers and kitbags spilling out into the corridor. Stella couldn’t stop thinking about Mac. She longed to see him, if only to explain. Grabbing her leather suitcase, she stepped off the train, and made her way across the platform, a sickly hollow feeling seeping into her stomach. Never before had she felt so torn. She sighed, wishing she wasn’t here at all.

‘Stella!’ Alex strode towards her, resplendent as ever in his RAF uniform and his mouth creased into a smile, making him even more handsome, his hair smoothed back, glinting gold in the afternoon sun.

Seeing him again, so close, she realised why she fell for him all those months ago. But would it ever be enough?

He fixed his dark chestnut eyes on her, took her in his arms and planted a kiss on her mouth. ‘Oh, darling, I’ve missed you. I’d almost forgotten just how beautiful you are.’

Despite his warm smile, his dim eyes gave him away, along with the new lines etched around them and the freshly carved furrows on his brow. They hadn’t had the chance to talk properly before now, and he still hadn’t said anything about his cousin. ‘I’m so sorry about Peter.’ Stella met his gaze, but he looked away.

He coughed to clear his throat. ‘Yes, jolly bad luck.’ He grabbed the suitcase from her and strode across to the car, a Triumph Dolomite Roadster in ice blue. ‘He kept saying his time was running out.’ His face twisted into a semblance of a half-smile but then sagged, replaced by a drawn, downcast expression of grief.

‘He expected it?’ As soon as she said the words, she regretted them.

‘Don’t we all? Oh, let’s not talk about it.’ Alex’s voice was cold and brusque. He turned the key, the engine roared to life, and he sped out of the station.

The journey to his home took about ten minutes, and he barely spoke except to answer her questions. He was beyond reach and had obviously taken Peter’s death hard. He braked suddenly, and Stella lurched forward as they turned into a narrow lane flanked by large black iron gates.

‘It’s lovely, Alex,’ Stella lied. An icy prickle snaked around her shoulders as she turned her face to the roof, where demonic stone gargoyles leered at her. Established hydrangea and rhododendron bushes with blooms of pink and red flanked the well-tended lawns.

Alex drove up to the front door and cut the engine. ‘Come on.’ He patted her knee and cast a smile before clambering out.

She stepped onto the gravelled drive, and stones rolled and crunched beneath her feet. A black Labrador bounded towards them, ears flapping in the gentle breeze, barking, and wagging its tail with vigour. A tall, middle-aged woman, elegant in dress and poise, stood at the dark oak front door, her mouth a tight red line.

‘Ben, old boy.’ Alex knelt to greet the dog, who furiously licked his face. ‘Have you missed me?’ Ben barked and trotted around them; his tail held high.

‘Mother, this is Stella. I told you she was adorable.’ Alex beamed and slipped his arm around Stella’s waist.

‘It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Russell.’ Stella smiled politely.

‘I trust you had a pleasant journey.’ Her cold, clipped tone belied the smile she wore, if you could call it a smile. She closed the door behind them, blocking out the light.

Stella followed behind as Mrs. Russell led the way through an oak-panelled hallway into a library, with walls filled from top to bottom with books. The Labrador slipped past and retreated to a wicker basket near the fire. The smell of burning logs failed to mask the stale, musty odour which hung in the air. Pictures crammed the remaining walls, which Alex pointed out were portraits of his ancestors. He seemed pleased to be home and hadn’t stopped smiling, but it was almost a forced smile. Perhaps this was just what he needed—a weekend away from war.

‘Alex, I’ll ask Mrs. Briars to bring you some tea.’ Mrs. Russell’s smile faded as she breezed out of the room.

Stella sensed the icy unease drift away, and she smiled as Alex drew her close and kissed her. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’ He exhaled a deep sigh. ‘I’d almost forgotten how it feels to be home.’

She leaned against him on the sofa, his arm around her shoulders. He hadn’t been this affectionate in ages. Perhaps she could believe in his love for her, but the moment’s thought brought with it a fresh wave of pain and loss, and then Alex released her abruptly when the door opened.

‘Ah, hello, Mrs. Briars.’

A grey-haired woman bustled in carrying a large tray laden with tea and sandwiches and set it down on a nearby table. ‘Will that be all, Master Alex?’ she said, her rounded, ruddy face breaking into a warming smile.

‘Yes, thanks, this looks wonderful.’

Stella was famished after her journey and in desperate need of sustenance. Alex poured the tea, and they helped themselves to food. The fire crackled and spat as they ate and chatted, and the war might have been a million miles away, but she couldn’t shake the image of Mac from her head.

Alex glanced at his watch. ‘Goodness, it’s half past five already. I’d better show you to your room so you can get unpacked. Dinner is at seven thirty.’ He took her hands and pulled her towards him, taking her in his arms. His uniform was rough and scratchy against her cheek, and the memory of Mac’s soft touch and his smell sailed into her head and pinched her heart.

‘I’ve missed you, darling, you know that don’t you?’

She raised her chin to speak and found his lips, waiting. His kiss was soft at first, but then a hunger set in, and his tongue, urgent and searching, surprised her. He’d never kissed her like that before. ‘Oh Stella,’ he whispered, kissing the length of her neck, drawing her body to his. She was so close to him, too close. It wasn’t the same, and the intuitive voice in her head yelled as much. Since the moment she stepped off the train, she’d been making comparisons.

‘Come on.’ Alex led her to a sweeping staircase and to the first floor, where more ancestry portraits hung. She followed him along a dusky hallway, her eyes sweeping over every picture, a swirl of faces adding to the confusion in her mind. The dark-red carpet was threadbare in places, and abruptly ended where Alex stopped, its edge frayed as if it had been severed. Beyond stretched dark, stained floorboards running to the end of the corridor. A musty odour drifted in the air.

‘Here we are.’ Inside, the bedroom was large, with windows overlooking the rear gardens. He placed her suitcase on the double bed, which was flanked by two mahogany bedside tables with matching cream lamps. ‘I wish I didn’t have to dash, but there’s something I have to do before dinner. I’ll leave you to unpack, and I’ll come for you at seven.’ He cast a brief smile before closing the door behind him.

A chill slid down her neck. The room seemed unused and unloved. Stella sank down onto the bed. She was alone in a strange old house; an intruder, or was it that she was an outsider? A gentle breeze flowed into the room through the open sash window, carrying a sweet floral scent. She peered out. Blobs of blue flecked the grey sky, and light rain drizzled. From below, roses clung to the stone walls with flowers of red and white, their heads nodding in the shower. Cherry blossom trees graced the garden, with soft, pink flowers casting their skins adrift in the gentle breeze, blanketing the carpet of velvet green below.

The clip-clop of hooves grew nearer, and she glimpsed the gravelled yard over to the right where a rider approached on a sleek black horse headed towards the house, towards Alex. He was waiting in the arched entrance to the stable yard. The rider dismounted and removed her hat, revealing a sheen of raven hair scraped back into a hairnet. Dressed in riding breeches and a tweed jacket, she hugged Alex tightly, and he greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. Who was she? Whoever she was, he was inviting her inside. A stable boy appeared and led the horse away. She half expected Alex to come and get her so that the two women might be introduced, but there was no knock on her door, no sound at all.

After about ten minutes, she could bear it no longer, so she tiptoed out into the hall where she caught the sound of laughter drifting upstairs. She peered over the oak bannister into the entrance hall. It was a woman’s laugh. Alex didn’t have a sister. Perhaps she was his cousin or a family friend. No doubt he’d tell her about it later. Footsteps clattered across the tiles below, and the woman slipped into view, leading Alex by the hand towards the front door. She whispered something in his ear and Alex laughed, then she kissed him on the lips. That wasn’t the touch of a friend. Stella’s vision clouded with swarms of red, and she trembled as a rush of adrenaline surged through her veins.

She stormed back to her room and locked the door behind her. How could she have been so stupid? When Alex had professed love, she’d almost believed him. She sank down on the bed as a wave of nausea struck her, and her eyes swam with tears. She’d been such a fool and pushed Mac away for this. Why? Because she’d felt it was right to support a friend in need. Clearly, Alex didn’t need her at all.

The image of Mac’s hurt face perched in her mind. How dare Alex treat her this way? He’d betrayed and used her once too often. What if Mac had given up on her? For all she knew, he could be meeting someone else right now, and it was all of her own making; all because of her misplaced loyalty. Why had Alex pleaded with her to come here when he clearly had someone else sheltering in the wings? Nothing made sense as she sank down on the bed. Her mother had pushed too far this time and read it all wrong, yet she was glad. Now she was free, or at least she would be as soon as she could leave. However, what would she find when she returned?

Tears stung her eyes. She cast a gaze outside at the sky. ‘Please be safe, Mac. Please come home,’ she whispered. She might be stuck here for tonight, but tomorrow she would return home. She only had to make it through dinner, and afterwards, she would confront him. Adopting a steel resolve, she flicked a gaze at the long, black cocktail dress hanging up, a dress she had no appetite to wear.

At seven o’clock, Alex knocked on her door and came into the room. ‘Oh, Stella, you look beautiful.’ He kissed her cheek and took her hand in his and led her downstairs to the dining room.

Stella walked into a chilled atmosphere, despite the log fire. Alex pulled out the chair for her, waiting for her to be seated. His parents glanced up then exchanged a look between them. Stella gazed around at the red painted walls, which were adorned with pictures of hunting scenes. The conversation seemed a little awkward, yet Stella bore their questions with grace. They asked her all about her family, her background, and her aspirations. It was almost as if they were interviewing her for a position in the household. Whatever it was, she was not in the mood for it.

Alex’s mother set her cutlery down. ‘Alex, darling, how is Elizabeth? It’s such a pity I missed her earlier.’

His gaze darted across to Stella, and a pink flush tinged his cheeks. He shuffled in his seat. ‘Oh, well, she’s very well. She wanted to know how it was all going, service life and all that.’

‘I hear she might volunteer with the Red Cross. Good girl, she’ll do a grand job no doubt.’ Alex’s father smiled. ‘And you, young lady, how do you find life in the WAAF?’

Stella swallowed a mouthful of potato and peered along the stretch of polished mahogany towards Mr. Russell, who raised his crystal glass to his mouth and drained the last of his red wine, swallowing deeply. ‘I enjoy it. Well, we all have to do what we can for the war effort.’ At least, some of us do. She eyed Mrs. Russell, who didn’t appear to be the sort who did anything useful.

‘Elizabeth is the daughter of Earl Hamilton-Jones. They own quite a large estate just north of here. Such dear friends. She’s an only child now, so sad. Her brother joined the RAF in 1939 and was shot down in his Spitfire over the Channel. They never found him, poor boy.’ Mr. Russell sighed.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ Stella cast an empathetic look. A loud bang emanated from the fire as the logs burned, and as a flurry of sparks billowed upwards, the clock cast its piercing chimes, which echoed around the room. The hair at the nape of Stella’s neck bristled, and icy fingers traversed her shoulders and kneaded her back.

‘Yes, well, Stewart was heir to the estate, but now it will pass to Elizabeth, so she’s about to become a wealthy young lady.’ Alex’s mother smirked, glancing at her son.

Stella caught the steely glare Alex shot back. God, they were comparing her to Elizabeth. If they wanted to make her feel even more unwelcome, then mission accomplished. She swallowed, and her appetite ebbed away. An air raid would be better than being trapped here. She sighed, chiding herself for being so selfish.

How was she going to get through this? Her room at Mrs. Brown’s was waiting for her, warm and homely. Mrs. Brown would be sat by the fire right now nursing her cup of Horlicks, listening to the BBC Home Service on the radio and Mac, well, perhaps he was at the pub. She clenched her hands beneath the table as Bourn tugged at the bonds of her heart.

After dinner, Stella and Alex retreated to the library, alone. He brought along a bottle of sherry and two crystal glasses, and they sat in front of the fire.

‘I wish you didn’t have to leave tomorrow.’

‘Well, I have something I need to do before I’m back on duty.’ Stella sipped her sherry and looked away.

‘Come back to my room tonight,’ he whispered as he leaned forward to kiss her.

She turned her head, so his lips brushed her cheek instead. ‘I don’t think that would be right.’ She leaned back in her chair. ‘Besides, your parents are here.’ She wasn’t sure what to say, but she wasn’t about to keep up a pretence either.

‘They won’t know a thing. They sleep in the north wing at the far side of the house. Well, I’ll come to you instead.’ Just then there was a knock on the door and his father stood there and coughed as if to announce his presence.

‘Alex, can I have a quick word, please?’

He glanced at her. ‘Back in a tick.’

‘Come to my room if you dare, but I’ll not let you in,’ Stella muttered. She sipped her sherry as she wandered over to the books, her fingers trailing the shelves, raking dust into fluff as she cast her eyes over their spines. To think her mother had thought all this could have been hers. Relief burrowed through her. She had no wish to be part of his family; his parents were cold and interested in one thing only. Money. She could kick herself for being so gullible and for hurting Mac in the process. God, Alex had punched him. None of it made any sense.

Time passed, and she wondered what was keeping Alex so long. She overheard raised voices and peered out into the hall, glimpsing the thin sliver of light that spilled from the dining room doorway.

‘Alex, keep your voice down, please. All I’m saying is that you understand our situation and what is expected of you.’ His mother’s voice sounded almost pleading.

‘I know, but really, Mother, you expect me to marry for money. Peter’s gone, and all you care about is this crumbling old pit. I won’t do it. I’d rather take a chance with Stella.’ Alex’s voice was strained.

‘Well, we can’t last here forever, my boy. The place will have to be sold, piece by piece. Is that what you want?’ Mr. Russell’s voice. ‘It’s your inheritance, and it comes with great responsibility.’

Stella had heard enough. And what did Alex mean by taking a chance? She closed the library door and drained the last of her sherry in one gulp which burned her throat, and water rushed to her eyes. Alex returned, looking as if he’d just lost his wings.

‘Is everything all right?’ She knew it wasn’t, and now she knew why.

He grabbed his glass and gulped down the sherry before sinking into an armchair. ‘Yes, perfectly fine,’ he snapped.

He was flustered and on edge, and somehow it didn’t feel like the right time to talk about things. ‘Alex, I’m sorry, but I have an awful headache. I think I’ll have an early night.’

He glanced at her, a preoccupied look in his eyes. ‘Oh, well, okay. If you need anything, just say. Goodnight.’ He looked away and stared into the fire.

Later, as she rested in bed, raised voices drifted up towards her room, so she tiptoed across to the door and opened it slightly. Alex’s voice, followed by his mother’s, drifted upstairs, but their words were unclear and muffled. Holding her breath, Stella caught the odd word. Marry Elizabeth and disinherited. Stella soon gave up as the voices appeared to fade away. His parents didn’t approve of her because she wasn’t an heiress to a fortune, and right now that was a good thing. Mac loved her for who she was. Oh God, please don’t let me have ruined something so special.

Alex’s behaviour with another woman had given her the perfect excuse for leaving. There was no question of guilt or of letting him down or even causing upset, and there was something about the way he’d shouted ‘take a chance with Stella’ that had unsettled her.

Mac’s image sailed into her head, and her heart quickened as she looked forward to returning home. Sleep would be impossible now. She longed to be in his arms, but then out of the blue an oppressive darkness draped over her, pressing down, burying into her bones. The sooner she returned, the better.

The following morning, Stella had breakfast alone with Alex. The one good thing about this weekend was that she knew who she wanted in her life.

‘I wish you didn’t have to leave yet.’ He reached across the table and caressed her hand.

Stella pulled away. ‘I saw you yesterday.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘In the afternoon, outside with that girl. You were kissing.’ She stared into his eyes, and his pupils swelled, then he turned away.

‘Oh, I see.’ He took out a battered silver cigarette case, plucked a cigarette, and lit up. He took a drag then exhaled a plume of smoke. ‘It’s not what you think, darling.’

He suddenly struck her as being so calm and collected. ‘You could have fooled me. I’ll guess that’s Elizabeth.’ Alex stared at her without a word. He didn’t even deny it. ‘Well, don’t I at least deserve an explanation?’

‘It’s not my decision, it’s my parents. I either marry Elizabeth, or we’ll lose the estate. Stella, please understand.’ His pleading eyes were pathetic; his weak voice droned on, and he no longer resembled the strong, independent, dashing young pilot she’d met all those months ago.

‘It’s all right, Alex. You don’t need to explain. I understand.’ She sighed.

‘Oh, darling. You really are the best.’ He reached for her hand again. ‘I knew you would.’

Oh God. She saw the hunger in his eyes, she saw desperation.

‘I’m not that understanding. In fact, I don’t know what I’m doing here at all. Why did you ask me to come?’

‘I suppose I thought that if my parents met you, they’d see how happy you make me.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Perhaps then they’d let me decide my own future. I do love you.’

‘Are you sure about that? Because I think your affections lie elsewhere.’ Her cheeks burned with heat, and her voice trembled. Alex had strung her along for months, and now he was asking her to be his mistress.

‘This is something to do with that Yank, isn’t it? If he’s laid a finger on you, I’ll kill him.’ Alex’s eyes bulged, and his face reddened.

‘This has nothing to do with him at all. This is about us. We’re not right together.’ Stella’s heart banged in her chest.

His eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared. ‘We were perfectly all right before you laid eyes on him. Don’t try and fool me. I know what’s going on here.’

‘How dare you? I waited to hear from you for weeks. Not one word. And then I hear you’re drinking with old friends in Cambridge, just along the road. You could have telephoned. Anything could have happened. I had to rely on reports from people back at the station simply to know you were alive.’

Her heart pounded in her ears as tears pricked her eyes. ‘That’s not how you behave when you’re in love, Alex, and it’s certainly not how you treat people.’

She stopped short, her chest heaving as she struggled for air, and the urge she had in her heart and her entire soul reared up to crush her as the true meaning of being in love hit her with an almighty force. All the doubts ebbed away as a warm glow radiated within her. She was in love with Mac, so much it hurt, and she had to be with him.

‘Yes, and ladies don’t betray their own kind. You’re just as bad as the rest of them. As soon as our backs are turned, you’re tempted with money, and silk stockings, and God knows what else.’

Rage coursed through her veins, though there was no point in arguing. ‘I’m sorry, Alex. I never meant for it to happen.’ She stared into his eyes.

‘Oh, dear Lord. You love him, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’

His eyes glazed over, and he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat just above his tie.

She looked away. ‘Alex, I said I’d be there for you, and I still can be, but only as a friend.’

‘I don’t need more friends; don’t you see?’ He stubbed out the cigarette, grinding it down forcefully in the ashtray.

‘Well, that’s up to you, but I can’t be anything more, not now.’ Stella turned her head to gaze out of the window, following the ripples of fields stretching out across the land, wishing she was crossing them, racing north, racing towards Mac. ‘Take me to the station, please. I want to go home.’

He tried to dissuade her, though she refused to listen. Half an hour later, reluctant, and sullen, he threw her suitcase into the car. His parents were nowhere to be seen, and he made no excuse for their absence. The journey to the station was quiet. A crestfallen Alex had lost his carefree manner. If it were not for the fact that she knew his age to be twenty-three, she might have mistaken him for a man in his mid-thirties.

When they arrived at the station, he cut the engine. ‘Darling, you know I love you.’

‘I thought so once, but you have someone else now, and she clearly adores you. If we’re honest, there’s always been someone else, hasn’t there?’

He shifted his gaze.

‘Well, there’s nothing more to say. Take care of yourself, Alex.’

He grabbed her hands. ‘Don’t leave me, please, Stella.’ His beseeching eyes, bright and glossy, were tinged with pain. ‘I don’t love her. It’s my parents, I can’t let them down.’

Yes, that was what led her into this mess in the first place, and as she stared into his desperate eyes, her heart twinged because he was now trapped. ‘Alex, I’m sorry. I don’t love you. Marry Elizabeth and be happy.’

‘But I want you.’ He brushed her cheek with his fingers. ‘I have to marry Elizabeth, but it’s you I want. It’s you I need.’

‘You can’t have both of us.’

His eyes frantically searched hers. ‘Well, think about it, we could still be together, and no one need ever know.’

God, he was serious. ‘But I’ll know, and I won’t be your dirty secret.’ He lunged forward and kissed her, a hard, suffocating kiss, crushing her chest, taking her by surprise.

She pushed him away as a fire rose in her belly. ‘Alex, stop!’ Her pulse raced as she shoved him with all her might. ‘How dare you?’ She stormed out of the car and grabbed her suitcase from the back seat as he looked on.

‘It won’t last, you know. Everyone knows that Yanks love them and leave them. All too soon he’ll be moving on, and you’ll be left behind.’

He was wrong. ‘Alex, take care of yourself.’ She paused, taking one final look at him before leaving.

‘Stella, wait, please.’

She saw him get out, but she kept on walking. When she reached the platform, she sank down on the nearest bench, her heart still whooshing in her ears. The wind picked up, and a bracing breeze penetrated her bones, and she shivered. She heard the roar of Alex’s car engine and turned to glimpse the flash of ice blue whipping around the corner, out of sight.

She wondered if Mac was flying today. She tried to shake off the bad feeling that swelled inside her. The station bustled with people, and a sea of khaki flanked the platform with bulky kitbags. The war was never far away. She glanced up at the station clock. Please God, don’t let it be late.