Tomorrow Brings Sorrow Read online

  ‘I haven’t been up to anything, more’s the pity. You’ll never guess who I met up in the woods, though.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Only the notorious murderer! Handsome beggar. He helped me with Lady. She went lame on me, got something stuck in her shoe. Anyway—’

  ‘You didn’t—’

  ‘No, but I wanted to. He has a magnetism about him. He’s surly, very rude, but fascinating. I just hope I get another chance.’

  ‘You’re disgusting. You’re supposed to be a lady – or had you forgotten?’

  ‘Oh, come off it, Terence. I’ve seen you lusting after that Rita, or whatever her name is.’

  ‘Yes, sorry, old girl, but she has some of the qualities you say your murderer has. Gets me where it’s difficult to deny.’

  ‘And that’s not disgusting? She’s nothing more than a Land Girl and a common slut from London’s East End!’

  ‘If you weren’t my sister, I’d say you were jealous.’

  ‘Don’t start that again. Help me down, little brother. Or should I say “farmer boy”?’

  ‘That’s below the belt.’

  On second thoughts, she would dismount by herself. She didn’t want Terence pawing at her, as was his wont at times. She’d already been visited by the guilt and shame of yesteryear, although rejecting Terence wouldn’t make things any better. To her shame, she still carried within her a deep love and attraction to her brother, of the type that she shouldn’t; and she knew he did for her, too. As she touched the ground with one foot, he reached out for her.

  ‘Big sister isn’t cwoss with little bwover, is she?’

  She couldn’t resist him. Besides, she needed to be held and to savour the manly smell of him. His kiss lingered on her lips, adding fuel to the fire smouldering inside her. She pulled away. ‘No, Terence, you know it’s wrong—’

  ‘It may be, but we both want it.’

  ‘We can’t. We must never let it go further, you know that. Now, let go of me. Go and fuck that big-breasted Rita, and the other one, if you must. What’s her name?’

  ‘Penny. Ha, I wouldn’t touch her! Have you seen the colour of her teeth? And her eyes and mouth, covered in sores? Revolting, darling. Even the servants have complained to Mater and Pater about her. They don’t like her having her meals with them. Bloody jumped-up lot. Still, I don’t blame them. I wouldn’t go near her either, let alone shag her. Ugh!’

  She laughed at him. The unnatural feelings they had for each other were something they fought off on a daily basis. As children they’d often petted each other, touched private parts, and had long kissing and fumbling sessions. It had been their secret, and something they had both enjoyed. And even when, at times, they’d fallen asleep and Terence hadn’t tiptoed back to his own bed, no one had suspected. The parents had simply put it down to them being twins and needing each other, but it had been more than that. Much more.

  They had grown out of it for a while. School years had meant long separations, but their feelings had simmered under the surface. The only time she hadn’t dwelt too much on them was when she had been on an extended holiday in Paris, living with her very best friend, Monique. What a wonderful two months that had been. Theresa had loved everything about France and its vibrant capital. And as a forerunner to her ‘finishing’ year in Belgium, it had served as an excellent opportunity to brush up her French, in which she remained fluent to this day. Terence wasn’t fluent, but he got by, and they often conversed in what she thought of as a beautiful language.

  Her marriage had brought her relationship with her brother to the fore again. Terence had broken his heart the night before it, and they had clung to one another, seeking pleasure in a lustful way that left only the final act of coupling undone.

  Taking the reins from her now, he tilted his head. ‘Anyway, I’ll have to do something. Perhaps I will go and try my luck. See you later, old thing.’ His smile nearly undid her. It tore at her emotions as she watched him walk in the direction of the barn.

  The word she’d used to describe Billy Armitage came to her mind as she thought of Rita. Magnetism – animal magnetism, in fact. They both had that quality: a dangerous element that drew you towards their sexuality. Rita wasn’t beautiful, or even pretty. Her hair, shoulder-length and with the front rolled back, was a mousy colour, and her features, though not plain, were ordinary. It was what she did with herself, and what she exuded, that set her apart. Not to mention her hourglass figure, large in all the right areas. It was the way she wore her clothes – even the overall they’d supplied her with, or the bib and brace, as it was known. The bib perched on the tip of her breasts, with the blouse she wore under it open to a plunge-line showing a mound of cleavage. The trousers she tucked into her wellingtons, emphasizing her rounded bottom and slim hips. Her face was never without make-up, and it was skilfully applied, making her eyes bigger than they were; and her lips . . . well, red, juicy and full. Kissable. Good God! I’ve taken in a lot about the girl.

  Once more Theresa blushed as the reason suddenly hit her. She bloody fancied the girl! A groan bordering on a moan tightened her throat as she realized the depths of her being. Her sexuality was capable of anything. Anything!

  Maybe she’d done the wrong thing. Perhaps if she’d stayed in her marriage, the freedom it would have given her, under the facade of propriety, would have allowed her to explore all avenues. But then she would have missed Terence so much . . .

  Rita saw His High-and-Mightiness, Terence Crompton, coming across the yard. There were several places where the barn needed repair, making good peepholes through which to keep watch and look busy when she needed to. Trouble was, it made it bleedin’ cold up in the loft where she and Penny slept, though on the plus side, it did provide her with fresh air to breathe and diluted the smell of Penny’s body odour.

  The holes had given her a view of something that had surprised her: the toff’s little tryst with his sister. A bit queer, that. It made her feel sick, but still, it could have got him ready. If she knew anything, he’d be fish for her bait. She had to get rid of Penny first, though. ‘’Ere, Penny, leave us alone for a while, sweetheart.’

  Penny stood up. Neither of them had been doing what they were supposed to be doing: swilling out the cowshed behind the barn, laying fresh straw on the floor and filling the feeding troughs for when the herdsman brought in the cattle at night. Made you bleedin’ sick, the stench of piss and cowpats, so they put it off for as long as they could. Besides, they were both feeling disgruntled.

  Standing up, Rita stubbed out her fag and then straightened her clothes, widening the gap in her blouse neckline and plumping up her hair a bit, before finding a lipstick in her pocket and refreshing her lips. Anticipation cheered her.

  Being a Land Girl wasn’t the cushy number they had thought it was going to be. It was dirty, stinking work, miles from anywhere, with just one pub for entertainment. Well, there was the miners’ social, but that was a washout. They said they used to have dances there on a Saturday night, but she hadn’t heard of any. It was a men-only domain most of the time, and when the women did go, there were limitations. No going in the men’s bar and no buying drinks – only the men could be served. Bloody Northerners, they had no fun in them – though she’d met a couple of hot-blooded ones. Nah, I’m not for this lark. I wish I’d gone into the munitions. At least they were in bigger towns and cities, giving you a chance of having some fun.

  His lust was obvious in the toff’s eyes. It seemed she was to get what she’d been after. She’d be set for life, if she could hook him. Not bleedin’ marry him, though! She wasn’t that daft as to think he’d have her. But she could get a few things on him and screw him for some lolly – have his baby, even. That’d see her right for life.

  ‘Hello, Rita, how is it all going? Are you and Penny settling in?’

  Bleeding toff. As if he cares. ‘We are, sir. Me and Penny are all right. The quarters you’ve given us ain’t up to much, though; we feel like rabbits in a hutch,
and it’s getting bleedin’ cold at night.’

  ‘Oh? I’ll have to look into that. I think there will be a room vacant in the servants’ quarters. Will that suit you better?’

  ‘Yes, ta very much. At least we’ll be warm.’

  ‘I’ll arrange it. Rabbits, hey? Ha, somewhat strange metaphor. You’re not partaking in their favourite occupation up there, are you?’

  His guffaw sounded silly, childish. The joke wasn’t that bleedin’ funny. ‘Chance’d be a fine thing, sir, but nah, we’re more like bleedin’ virgins.’ She let her laughter tinkle and looked up at him from under her eyelashes.

  ‘Hmm, shame. Should do something about that. Yes, can’t have that. It’s a sorry state of affairs for anyone.’

  She moved closer to him. ‘What do you propose then, kind sir? I hope you ain’t got ideas?’

  He blushed at this and flustered. ‘No, of course not. Um . . . er, no, I was thinking we should make some entertainment for you.’

  ‘Ha, I’m only having you on. But too right, I think you could provide me with entertainment, mate.’ She indicated with her eyes where she thought he could entertain her, by looking up towards her own and Penny’s bedroom above the barn. ‘Though it might make a chap like you tired, climbing that ladder.’

  Beads of sweat stood out on the toff’s forehead. His lids half closed and his tongue slid over his lips. Time to make a move and make something happen. Turning from him, Rita swung her hips as she glided over to the ladder. At the bottom, she looked back at him and raised her eyebrows. He followed her like a horse after a lump of sugar.

  Fired up for it now, she wouldn’t have bothered with the kissing and groping, but she were bleedin’ glad she let that part of it happen. His skill heightened every sensitive part of her. His kisses, deep and sweet-tasting, had her emotions swimming. His hands caressed her like she was something special, finding places she didn’t know she had. Oh God. Her whole being released itself onto him. Wave after wave of pleasure consumed her. His flesh yielded to her grip on his back as the spasm taking her turned her into an animal and she clawed at him, her throat painful from the moans rasping from her. Her head stung as he grasped handfuls of her hair and forced her head backwards, stopping her from resisting his violent thrusts, when all she needed was to clench onto him.

  Shattered by the intensity of it, her reward was to be taken where she’d never been before. She’d had plenty of blokes, but none came near this toff, this giant of a man. He splintered her very being.

  Disappointment came at the end. Despite his coarse hollering of swear words – the like of which she was more likely to hear down the Old Pig and Whistle – showing her the depth of his feeling, he pulled out of her at the last second. It didn’t make no odds to her enjoyment, but she were hoping he’d let go into her, giving her the possibility of sealing a hold on him. Still, there’d be another time. There were no doubt of that. And now she knew of his fancy for his twin sister, he wouldn’t stand a chance. Besides, she’d be ready next time. He’d not escape her legs. She’d wrap them around him like a vice. She were a bleedin’ match for any man.

  As he tidied himself, he looked up, his eyebrows raised. The little smile on his lips begged for praise. What the hell – he had some coming to him, didn’t he?

  ‘Bleedin’ hell, guvnor. You’re a bleedin’ tiger.’

  The laugh he let out rebounded off the rafters, then he shocked Rita by taking hold of her and kissing her again. No bloke had ever done that before. Not after they’d had their way. Bleedin’ hell, there were no accounting for bleedin’ toffs.

  ‘He did it then?’

  ‘Of course. Couldn’t resist, could he?’

  ‘I – I ain’t never had it. What’s it like?’

  ‘Bloody lovely, Penny. Well, it is with a bloke as knows what he’s doing, and that toff knew what he were doing all right. He were the best I’ve had. So you’re a virgin then, mate?’

  Penny’s face flushed and Rita instantly felt sorry. She hadn’t meant to embarrass her. She’d thought, from how Penny spoke, as she were beyond that. ‘Look, it ain’t no bloody big deal. We were all virgins once. But if you want to change it, you need to do something with yourself. You ain’t unattractive, but . . . well, a good bath wouldn’t go amiss. And that hair of yers is like bleedin’ straw. Didn’t your mam introduce you to a toothbrush? I mean, I know times have been hard, but us lot shared one and used the soot from the back of the fire to clean our teeth. Bloody good stuff. Gets them white as anything.’

  Seeing the distressed look cross Penny’s face, Rita felt a rare moment of compassion for another. She wished she hadn’t spoken so harshly.

  ‘Look, mate, I can sense as there’s sommat making you deeply unhappy, and it ain’t bleedin’ right that anyone should feel as though they have such little self-worth as to let themselves go like you have. Is there anything I can help you with, love?’ Her feeling of being a bitch increased as she saw tears trickle from Penny’s eyes. ‘You can tell me, mate, and if I can make it better for you, I will.’

  Penny took a moment to answer, but when she did, her words compounded Rita’s feelings of guilt over how she’d treated her.

  ‘I ain’t got a mam. And I didn’t want to be attractive to me dad. Me sister were, and I seen what he done to her. He bleedin’ killed her. He wanted her and she resisted. He slapped her about. He’s in jail now, and he’ll bleedin’ rot there. After Ruby died, I just didn’t care anymore.’

  ‘Blimey! I’m sorry, mate, that’s a lot for anyone to contend with, and I can understand your thinking. But look, love, we can’t change the past; we can only make our future better. If you want me to, I’ll help yer get yourself sorted. You’re a lovely girl, and I want folk to know that. Let’s start by getting you cleaned up, eh? If you get clean, you’ll find that your eyes won’t be all sore and matted, and those sores on your mouth will go. That’d be sommat, wouldn’t it? I tell you what: you get on with shifting some hay and I’ll go over to the house and have a word with the housekeeper. I’ll see if she’ll let us have a bath tonight. She’s a bit of a cow, but we’ve been here a while now and ain’t bothered her much.’

  More tears dropped from the corner of Penny’s eyes. Poor cow. But though Rita’s heart felt heavy for Penny, she had no inclination to comfort her with a hug, not like she’d do naturally. No, she couldn’t bear the thought, but she’d help Penny. It’d be a good job to get done too, for the smell and sight of her had been a bit much to live with.

  When Rita got to the house, the housekeeper shocked her as she told Rita to follow her up the stairs. ‘Blimey, I only asked for a bath, not a tour of the place. Where you taking me?’

  ‘Master Terence said you’re to come into the house for the winter, but I ain’t happy about it. These bedrooms are for household staff and we’re short of them, so if we take on more, you’ll be back in that barn. And while I’m on, I want you to do something about that other lass. She’s a disgrace!’

  ‘Keep your bleedin’ hair on. I told yer: that’s what I came to ask for. Besides, you don’t know the circumstances of her. Now, show me the room and how we go on for a bath. We’ve managed with a bowl and jug since we got here, and it ain’t good enough.’

  The housekeeper huffed, but didn’t say anything. She simply shoved open the door of the room they were to occupy and then pointed down the landing. ‘The bathroom is down there. You two can occupy it after dinner. No, make that before, because I can’t face another meal with that girl stinking the kitchen out. I take it she will be bathing as well?’

  Rita chose not to answer. She knew it would rankle with all the staff, having her and Penny here. Toffee-nosed bleeders. But she couldn’t argue with what they said about Penny.

  Once the stiff-backed spinster had turned the corner and was out of sight, Rita took a proper look around, clenching her hands with the excitement that seized her. She’d never seen the like of a room like this. Her home in London was squashed with bodies – there were ten
of them altogether, all occupying two rooms above a shop. You could fit both of their rooms into this one. And the smell of wax polish everywhere made you feel you were one of them posh lot.

  It was hard to take it all in. Two beds with a chest of drawers next to each and a big wardrobe took up most of the space, and a marble-topped washstand with a china jug and bowl perched on it stood under the window. It had a towel rail on one side with, she noted, one towel. Well, she’d ask for another, as she wasn’t about to share. The walls were covered with a pink paper with daisies all over it. Though faded, it gave a light feel to the room. Bouncing on the bed, Rita giggled. Blimey, Ma O’Reilly! I’ve come up in the world!

  Showing the place the reverence it demanded, she almost tiptoed along towards the bathroom, scared to make a sound, although what she saw when she opened the door changed that. ‘Bleedin’ hell! Call that a bleedin’ bath? It’s more like a swimming pool.’ Clasping her hand over her mouth, she looked back along the landing, but there was no one around.

  The water gushed out of the taps as she turned them on, and steam rose to the ceiling. Turning them off, Rita hugged herself before running back the way the housekeeper had brought her. She had to find Penny. They had to move in this minute. And she’d get that Penny scrubbed clean quicker than the bat of an eyelid.

  Penny took the first bath; Rita left her to her own devices, afraid she’d be sick if she had to take in the smell of Penny when she was wet. But after that she made sure she supervised her, and worked on her matted hair. It had been a challenge, but now, as she looked at Penny a week later, it was a challenge that she was glad she’d taken on.

  ‘It don’t seem a week since we took this room, does it, Penny? Though looking at you, and the difference in you, you’d think it was more like a month. That frock suits you – you can keep it if you want. ’Ere, sit still, will you? How’s a girl meant to put make-up on you, when you keep moving?’