‘It won’t happen again,’ she said. ‘I promise. It’s just that Ralph was very sweet and asked me to dance with him and I didn’t realise how much punch I had drunk, and—’ She broke off, unable to speak, tears filling her eyes and spilling down her cheeks.
‘Don’t cry!’ he snapped. ‘It only makes you look even more pathetic.’
At the harshness of his voice, she trembled.
‘After all I’ve done for you,’ he went on, ‘this is how you repay me.’
The tears really flowed now.
‘You disgust me,’ he said. ‘Just look at the state of you.’ He shook his head. ‘Go and wash your face and pull yourself together.’
Again she did as he said, desperate for him not to be angry with her. Standing at the basin in her bathroom, she splashed cold water onto her face, then dried herself with a towel, dabbing gently at her skin so as not to redden it further. She had annoyed Arthur enough, she mustn’t add to his disappointment in her. She must remember to be a better wife. To please him.To do her duty.
She took a deep shuddering breath and reminded herself that her husband was a good man. He only wanted the best for her. Just as her father had. She had done everything wrong this evening, she had drunk too much and danced too much. It was when Ralph had grabbed hold of her and said he’d teach her how to do the twist that she had really misjudged things. That was her real mistake.
‘Let yourself go, Julia!’ he’d said above the band playing ‘Let’s Twist Again’.
The crowded dance floor was full of gyrating bodies and everywhere she looked, people were laughing happily, their faces bright and shining with the fun of what they were doing. Suddenly she wanted to be just like them and after a few hesitant twists, and at Ralph’s encouragement, she threw herself into the dance with gay abandon. It felt wonderful to feel so free and alive, to let herself go, just as Ralph had urged her.
Disaster struck in her attempt to copy Ralph and twist down almost to the floor on one foot. She was giggling so much she lost her balance and before she knew it, she was lying on her back, her legs sticking up in the air, her knickers and stocking tops on show for all the world to see. Only when Ralph had helped her to her feet did she realise her dress was ripped at the back, exposing her yet more. Then she saw Arthur staring at her with a grim expression on his face. Seconds later he came over and said they were leaving.
Confident that she now had her emotions under control, Julia returned to the bedroom. Arthur was standing at the foot of the bed and was in the process of laying his trousers on top of the ottoman, smoothing out any wrinkles or creases. He was so fastidious with his clothing.
‘Take off your nightdress,’ he said matter of factly. ‘Then show me how sorry you are.’
He pointed to where she was to kneel, directly in front of him at his feet, and she willingly followed his instructions.
Always do your duty ... Always do as you’re told ... Never disobey me ... And never tell anyone.
The next morning she slept in, and just as Arthur had explained would happen, she was left undisturbed by the household staff.
‘You’ll want to sleep off your hangover,’ he had said in a reassuringly solicitous voice when he’d left her to go to his own room.
‘You’re probably right,’ she said, shamefaced. Her head had indeed started to thump, and her stomach was churning querulously.
‘Of course I’m right,’ he’d replied. His hand on the door handle, he’d added, ‘I’ll inform Miss Casey that you need peace and quiet and won’t need any breakfast. And while you’re recovering, you might like to consider how inappropriate your behaviour has been and how you let not just me down, but yourself.’
‘I’m so very sorry,’ she’d said. ‘I promise it won’t ever happen again.’
‘You must see that it doesn’t.’
It was now gone midday and hunger had replaced the queasiness in her stomach. What she wouldn’t give for a cup of tea and a slice of toast and marmalade. Hearing the sound of a car on the driveway, she slipped out of bed and went to the window. She pulled back the curtains and saw the Rolls with Arthur at the wheel. She watched the car disappear down the drive, and with her stomach rumbling, she decided she was quite well enough now to go in search of something to eat. Never had she slept in so late and heaven only knew what Miss Casey and the other servants would think of her. Added to what they already thought about her. Doubtless she was now the talk of Melstead St Mary.
She hastily dressed, making sure to cover up the bruises on her arms, brushed her hair, and crossed the room to go downstairs.
At first she thought the door was stuck, but no matter how hard she pulled on the handle, or how vigorously she turned it, the door refused to open.
It was locked.
ChapterThirty-Four
The Randolph Hotel, Oxford
November 1962
Annelise
As always when she was in Harry’s company, Annelise kept the extent of her feelings for him in check. Instinct told her that it would be a mistake to talk about love to a man like Harry. Crowd him out with overt displays of adoration and he’d be off like a shot.
