And just as clear was the decision that she must not lose her nerve when she reached the hospital.
She was used to hospitals and seeing very sick patients. She had nursed many to the end, right to their death rattle last breath. Yet for all her previous experience, Julia was shocked at the sight of her sister-in-law. But slowly removing her coat, she reverted to her old self, a trained nurse with a patient to take care of. She read the medical notes at the foot the bed, and then assessed the equipment that was helping to keep Hope alive. Satisfied that all was as it should be, she sat in the chair beside the bed.
Under normal circumstances Julia would never have dared to do what she did next, but she reached out for Hope’s right hand – her left was partially hidden beneath the plaster cast that covered her forearm. Reassuring patients had been a forte of Julia’s when she had been a nurse, that and listening. She had been taught to understand that these two things were a crucial part of being a good nurse. ‘Hold their hand,’ she was told, ‘and listen to whatever it is they have to say. It’s a great comfort to them.’
It was listening to Arthur when he’d been ill with pneumonia that had brought them together. He’d told her one day that he’d never before been treated with such kind compassion. ‘You’re a very special person,’ he’d said, ‘and I want to find a way to thank you for all that you’ve done for me.’
She had believed him. Every word. But now she didn’t. Now she was about to betray him, despite the risk involved.
‘Hope,’ she said in a low voice, ‘it’s me, Julia. I should have come to see you sooner, but I didn’t dare. You see, the thing is, I know who was driving the car that hit you. It was your brother, Arthur. He didn’t mean to. It was an accident. But it was very wrong of him not to stop and help you.’
There, she’d said it. She had done her duty. Just not in the way her father or husband would have wanted.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Melstead St Mary, Suffolk
December 1962
Stanley
‘I’ve been such a fool, Stanley.’
‘Nobody, least of all me, would ever accuse you of being a fool,’ said Stanley, trudging along next to Annelise.
‘You’ll think differently when you know the truth. You see, in common with all self-sufficient people when I did lose my self-control, I lost it comprehensively.’
It was difficult for Stanley to picture Annelise losing control and he said so.
A rueful smile flickered across her face, which until then had been intensely sad and pale, and with what anybody else would assume was worry for Hope. But for some days he’d felt Annelise had something else on her mind.
‘And that’s part of the problem,’ she said. ‘Perhaps deep down I had been longing to do just that; to defy expectations of me and rebel. To kick over the traces.’ She came to a stop and stared out across the valley.
They had been walking across the fields at the back of Fairview and were now on the crest of the rise looking down towards the village, which was just discernible through the thinning fog. Scampering on ahead, Tucker was on the trail of something, probably a rabbit. It was Sunday morning and in the distance the bells were being rung, calling the faithful to church. Regular worship was an aspect of village life that had passed Stanley by. He never felt quite good enough – clean enough – to be there.
‘There’s something I want to tell you,’ Annelise said.
‘Sounds like you want to make a confession,’ he said lightly, which belied how he felt. Filled with a sense of dread, he had the strongest sensation that he wasn’t going to like what she was about to say.
But then the sense of dread had been with him since yesterday evening when he had driven her home from the hospital. He knew that she found visiting Hope upsetting, but last night she had been particularly upset. To cheer her up he had suggested they go for a drink, but with tears in her eyes, she had said she wouldn’t be good company.
When Stanley had stopped the car in front of Fairview, she had sat very still, her hand resting on the door handle as if trying to decide something.
‘I know Romily’s invited us all for lunch tomorrow, but will you come for a walk with me in the morning?’ she’d said finally. ‘Fog or no fog, would ten o’clock be all right for you to meet me here?’
‘I’ll be here,’ he’d said, hugging her goodnight. He’d driven home wondering what was wrong. Did she want to discuss how awkward she now felt around him, knowing what his true feelings for her were?
‘I tried to tell you about Harry the night of the party at Meadow Lodge,’ Annelise said now, her gaze fixed on some faraway point, ‘but I’d only said a few words when you were suddenly ill.’
Harry . . .? ‘Go on,’ Stanley murmured, remembering how revoltingly ill he’d been, but he had no recall of anyone called Harry.
‘I’m afraid I rather lost my head over him,’ she continued.
‘That’s you rebelling, is it?’ he quipped, forcing a levity to his voice he didn’t feel.
‘I thought he loved me,’ she said, still staring into the distance. ‘I thought . . . I thought everything he said was true, that his marriage really was on the rocks and he was planning to divorce his wife so he could be with me. But everything that came out of his mouth was a lie. I can see that now.’
‘He’s married?’
At last she turned to face Stanley. ‘Have I shocked and disappointed you?’
He was shocked. He was hugely shocked that Annelise could be so credulous, but he tried to hide it. ‘Of course not,’ he lied. ‘If we could choose who we fall in love with, and vice versa, life would be a lot easier.’ And wasn’t that the truth? he thought. ‘Was it love at first sight?’ he asked, despite the pain the question caused him.
She shook her head. ‘No. But when it hit me, it was a colpo di fulmine.’
‘Sorry?’
‘It means I was hit by a thunderbolt. Which is nothing compared to what I feel I’ve been hit with now. Will you promise me something?’ she asked. Her face was so earnest it hurt him.
‘Anything.’ He meant it, too. He would do anything for Annelise. He had always felt that way about her.
‘You mustn’t tell anyone what I’m about to share with you. Do you promise?’
‘You have my word.’
‘I’m pregnant.’
Seconds passed while Stanley floundered, trying to find the right words.
‘Say something,’ she said.