‘I beg to differ,’ said Deborah. ‘Where would she be if it weren’t for my family? A little orphan whose daddy lost the family’s fortune. Whose sister is carrying on with one of her boyfriends. Why, it could only be worse if those nasty little films were to resurface!’
Hannah’s back stiffened.
‘Oh yes,’ said Deborah. ‘I know all about them. You didn’t think my brother kept secrets from me, did you?’ She smiled and her nostrils flared. ‘He knows better than that. We’re family. Not to mention he couldn’t make half the decisions he makes if it weren’t for my counsel.’
‘What do you want, Deborah?’
Deborah smiled thinly. ‘I just wanted you to see, to understand how much we all have to lose from even the whiff of scandal. Why it has to stop.’
‘And if it doesn’t?’
Deborah sighed, collected Hannah’s purse from the end of the bed. ‘If you won’t stop seeing him of your own accord, I’ll make certain that you can’t.’ She snapped the purse shut and handed it to Hannah. ‘Men like him-war-damaged, artistic-disappear all the time, poor things. No one thinks anything of it.’ She straightened her dress and started for the door. ‘You get rid of him. Or I will.’
Hannah met Robbie for the last time that winter in the Egyptian room at the British Museum. I was sent with the letter. He was taken aback to see me in Hannah’s stead, and none too pleased. He took it warily, peered into the hall to check I was alone, then leaned against the doorframe, reading. His hair was dishevelled and he hadn’t shaved. His cheeks were shadowed, as was the skin around his smooth lips, which were moving softly, speaking Hannah’s words. He smelled unwashed.
I had never seen a man in such a natural state, didn’t quite know where to look. I concentrated instead on the hallway wall beside him. When he got to the end his eyes met mine and I saw how dark they were, and how desperate. I blinked, looked away, left as soon as he said he’d be there.
So it was, on a rainy morning in March 1924, I pretended to read news articles about Howard Carter, while Hannah and Robbie sat at opposite ends of a bench before the Tutankhamen display, looking for all the world like strangers who shared nothing more than an interest in Egyptology.
A few days later, at Hannah’s behest, I was helping Emmeline pack for her move to Fanny’s house. Emmeline had spread across two rooms while at number seventeen, and there was little doubt that without help she had no hope of being ready in time. Thus, I was plucking Emmeline’s winter accessories from the shelves of soft toys given her by admirers, when Hannah came to check our progress.
‘You’re supposed to be helping, Emmeline,’ said Hannah. ‘Not leaving Grace to do everything.’
Hannah’s tone was strained, had been that way since the day in the British Museum, but Emmeline didn’t notice. She was too busy flicking through her journal. She’d been at it all afternoon, sitting cross-legged on the floor, poring over old ticket stubs and sketches, photographs and ebullient youthful scrawlings. ‘Listen to this,’ she said, ‘from Harry.
Hannah sat on the end of the bed. ‘I’m going to miss you.’
‘I know,’ said Emmeline, smoothing a crinkled page of her journal. ‘But you do understand I can’t come to Riverton with you all. I’d simply die of boredom.’
‘I know.’
‘Not that it will be boring for you, darling,’ Emmeline said suddenly, realising she may have caused offence. ‘You know I don’t mean that.’ She smiled. ‘It’s funny, isn’t it, the way things turn out?’
Hannah raised her eyebrows.
‘I mean, when we were girls, you were always the one who longed to get away. Remember you even talked about becoming an office girl?’ Emmeline laughed. ‘I forget, did you ever go so far as to ask Pa’s permission?’
Hannah shook her head.
‘I wonder what he would have said,’ said Emmeline. ‘Poor old Pa. I seem to remember being awfully angry when you married Teddy and left me with him. I can’t quite remember why.’ She sighed happily. ‘Things have turned out, haven’t they?’
Hannah pressed her lips together, searched for the right words. ‘You’re happy in London, aren’t you?’
‘Do you need to ask?’ said Emmeline. ‘It’s bliss.’
‘Good.’ Hannah stood to leave then hesitated, sat again. ‘And you know that if anything should happen to me-’
‘Abduction by Martians from the red planet?’ said Emmeline.
‘I’m not fooling, Emme.’
Emmeline cast her eyes skyward. ‘Don’t I know it. You’ve been a sourpuss all week.’
‘Lady Clementine and Fanny would always help. You know that, don’t you?’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Emmeline. ‘You’ve said it all before.’
‘I know. It’s just, leaving you alone in London-’
‘You’re not leaving me,’ said Emmeline. ‘I’m staying. And I’m not going to be alone, I’ll be living with Fanny.’ She flourished her hand. ‘I’ll be fine.’
‘I know,’ said Hannah. Her eyes met mine, she pulled them away quickly. ‘I’ll leave you to it, shall I?’
Hannah was almost at the door when Emmeline said, ‘I haven’t seen Robbie lately.’
Hannah stiffened, but she didn’t look back. ‘No?’ she said. ‘No, now that you mention it, he hasn’t been around in days.’
‘Deborah said he’d gone away.’
‘Did she?’ said Hannah, back rigid. ‘Where did she say he’d gone?’
‘She didn’t.’ Emmeline frowned. ‘She said you might know.’
‘How should I know?’ said Hannah, turning. She avoided my eyes.
‘That’s what I said,’ said Emmeline. ‘Why would Robbie tell you and not me?’ She shook her head. ‘Why would he go at all, and without saying anything?’
Hannah lifted her shoulders. Dropped them again. ‘He was like that, don’t you think? Unpredictable. Unreliable.’
‘Well, I’m going to find him,’ said Emmeline determinedly. ‘I have before.’
‘Oh no, Emmeline,’ said Hannah quickly. ‘Don’t go looking for him.’
‘But I have to,’ said Emmeline.
‘Why?’
Emmeline smiled at her, rolled her big blue eyes. ‘Because I love him, of course.’
‘Oh, Emme, no,’ said Hannah softly. ‘No you don’t.’
‘I do,’ said Emmeline. ‘I always have. Ever since he first came to Riverton and he bandaged my arm for me.’
‘You were eleven,’ said Hannah.
‘Of course, and it was just a childhood crush then,’ said Emmeline. ‘But it was the beginning. I’ve compared every man I’ve met since to Robbie.’
Hannah pressed her lips together. ‘What about the film-maker? What about Harry Bentley, or the half-dozen other young men you’ve been in love with this year alone? You’ve been engaged to at least two of them.’
‘Robbie’s different,’ said Emmeline.
