A Brighter Tomorrow by Maggie Ford (read with me .txt) 📕

be what the words had put into her head. She had quickly turned to Dora, telling her to go down to the kitchen and order tea to be brought up. ‘Small ears carry tales’ was the saying, especially when those ears belonged to Jay’s young sister and the matter concerned them both.

‘Tell me what you mean!’ she commanded sharply after Dora had left.

‘It’s just that – I mean, Jay don’t do any work now in the house any more.’

She hadn’t noticed until then. In her wish to avoid seeing the girl she really hadn’t noticed whether she worked or not, but Chambers had warmed to the subject, gaining momentum. ‘She spends all her time, I think, in her room or up in the master’s study.’

‘The master’s study! What does she do there?’

‘Painting, I think.’

‘Painting?’ She recalled thinking that the questioning was becoming almost childish but found a pressing need to know what was going on. She also recalled feeling relieved that perhaps it wasn’t as unpleasant as she’d first imagined; but even if innocent, why was it going on behind her back?

‘What do you mean – painting? What sort of painting?’

‘Pictures, I think,’ had come the reply. ‘It’s ’cos she’s clever at it.’

‘And how do you know this is going on in the doctor’s study? Tell me!’

Chambers had hung her head. ‘I saw her go in there,’ she mumbled. ‘She had a key. She looked all around, secretive like, as she unlocked the door, but she didn’t see me, and then she went in. I didn’t see her come out ’cos I had work to do. Just lately there seems to be just me and Rose, the kitchen maid, doing all the work around this house.’

‘Does Jay tell you about this painting, or what she’s been doing?’

‘No, not a word, but there’s something going on we don’t know about. She gets more time off than we do and she wears dresses I ain’t seen before when she do go out. I’m sure the master gives her an extra salary. Then there’s that man what comes every Tuesday around seven thirty. I take him up to the master’s study. He’s there until about eight thirty and then he leaves. I asked Cook about it but she said to mind me own business. If you ask me, madam—’

‘I am not asking you, girl,’ Mary had cut in sharply. ‘That is all. Go on about your work now.’

Chambers had curtseyed and gone off, a little sullenly, she’d thought.

Now Mary faced her husband in a fit of anger that had had time to work itself up into a fury but had suddenly exploded this morning when she hadn’t intended it to. She had planned to tackle him with coldness and dignity. Instead she was screaming at him like a harridan.

‘You’ve no answer to give me, have you?’ she cried, virtually at the end of her tether after stewing for days over this. His attitude, the way he was regarding her, as though she were a babbling fool, was all that had been needed to send her that last few inches. And she didn’t care who overheard.

‘Lies!’ she shrieked at him. ‘Lies! Painting be damned!’ She saw him recoil at her choice of words. ‘This talk of you finding her so like our… our dearest Millicent…’ She stumbled over the word, trying to keep back the tears the mere mention of that dear name brought. ‘All lies! In truth you’re besotted with the girl and she’s leading you on and you’re fool enough not to see it. You’re a silly, middle-aged man, carrying on with—’

‘I’m carrying on with no one!’ he interrupted fiercely. ‘I find her sweet and caring – all the things I miss since we lost our cherished daughter. She is an inspiration to me, a boon. She fills that emptiness in my heart. If that is a crime—’

‘Don’t be so melodramatic!’ Mary winced with embarrassment but quickly recovered. ‘And I don’t believe you. The truth is that you’ve found in her your own lost youth. You’ve allowed yourself to be seduced by her wiles. Painting! You and she have been deceiving me.’

‘Mary, you are being ridiculous.’

Mary’s eyes opened wide until they almost resembled saucers of blue set in her full cheeks. ‘It is you who are being ridiculous, you stupid, stupid man! You beast! And she’s nothing more than a little whore…’

‘That’s a terrible thing to say, my dear.’

‘But true. And I shall not remain in this house a minute longer than is necessary to collect a few belongings. I shall stay with my sister Edith and her husband in Kensington. If and when you finally come to your senses, that is where I may be contacted. Dora is coming with me.’

Bertram hadn’t shifted from the hearth where he’d positioned himself throughout her tirade. The only visible sign of his emotion was the clenching and unclenching of his chubby hands.

His voice, when he spoke again, was steady, though obviously being held in check.

‘If that’s how you feel, my dear, then I think you should go to stay with Edith and Edward. I can see that there is no way to convince you of my innocence. My only fault is the desire to seek solace for the void the loss of our daughter has left in my heart. I can only ask you to accept my apologies for failing to confide in you that need. But if you cannot see fit to understand my feelings, then I think it best you stay with your sister for a while.’

His outward calm had transmitted itself to her a little. In a haughty but more controlled voice, though still trembling on the brink of tears, she sought to clarify.

‘And I can take it that you have no intention of terminating this relationship, whatever it is, with this person who is even less than half your age – young enough to be your daughter?’

Too late she realized her error as he nodded in ironic confirmation. It was