The Tailor's Girl Page 11

  His gaze softened but she knew he was hiding his true feelings. This time it was relief, even some satisfaction, as though his warnings had been borne out. ‘Tom has been gone all day, child. Perhaps he has taken this opportunity to move on painlessly.’

  She kept her voice even, though her belly felt as if it was filled with snakes twisting and sliding over each other at the notion that Tom had left her without farewell. ‘No. Tom’s not a coward, Abba. He would wish to say goodbye and thank us if he was leaving.’

  Edie knew her father wanted to say that Tom could be lost, but she saw him resist it.

  ‘Besides,’ she said, ‘if we leave it unlocked, then Ben can let himself in.’ She smiled innocently. ‘Go, Abba, change for Shabbat. I’ll be up in a minute.’

  He left and Edie took a few moments to quell the fluttering fear that wanted to take full flight. As she moved to the door to turn the Closed sign around, she stared out into the twilight as people hurried home before the sun set fully and she asked any of the angels that had kept Tom alive through the war to now bring him back to her.

  ‘I promise I’ll say yes. I cannot ask him to convert his faith but you know he’s a good man. Instead I promise to be a loving wife who never breaks faith with my husband. Just bring Tom back to me,’ she said softly, realising she was praying, not just casting out a hope.

  There was a knock at the door and she was startled. Hope flared. She smiled sadly as she opened the door. ‘Evening, Ben.’ She kissed his cold cheek, feeling hideously awkward. Her feelings of dread and guilt, coupled with fear for Tom and fear for what was going to happen later this evening, only intensified when Ben showed no expression but his usual good-natured grin.

  ‘I was worried I’d be late,’ he said, giving her a hug.

  ‘Right on time as usual,’ she assured. ‘Ben?’

  ‘I know,’ he said, cutting her off. ‘We’ll talk after synagogue.’

  She nodded. ‘Go on up. Abba is waiting.’ She turned away, aware that they were both avoiding the inevitable. ‘I’m just locking up,’ she fibbed. ‘I’ll be up in a moment.’

  Ben disappeared. It seemed ludicrous that he was still pretending as though everything was as it had been a few days ago. His mother had admitted that only this morning he was discussing the wedding contract with the rabbi.

  Edie felt a skewer of regret for him while giving another wistful glance into the gloomy November night. It felt cold enough to snow. Tom was not prepared for the harsher elements, although she admitted to herself once again that he had emerged from war where others had succumbed to its traumas. Tom was a survivor, a small voice assured her in her mind.

  She sighed and joined the men upstairs for a brief prayer and a sip of wine, and then her father and Ben kissed her farewell as they headed to the synagogue for Friday prayers with the rest of the men of Golders Green. In the interim, she listened for the telltale sound of Tom’s return that never came while she laid the table with their best crockery and crystal, which somehow kept him with her.

  8

  Edie and Ben sat opposite one another in the sitting room while Abe remained in the dining room, awaiting the arrival of Dena and Samuel.

  She had no idea how to begin the most difficult conversation of her life. The clock ticked ominously, reminding her of the awkward silence stretching between them. Gas lamps added no cheeriness to this scene and when the flame of the fire suddenly guttered, she felt obliged to start the horrible conversation, as clearly Ben wasn’t going to. She’d expected him to be in a foul mood. Instead he appeared in control of his emotions and it dawned on her then that perhaps at the synagogue her father had suggested he take a conciliatory approach, as Abba no doubt believed there was now every likelihood Tom was not going to return. It made sense suddenly because she knew Ben had a temper, although it was also true that his childish propensity for anger had matured into an adult’s ability to disguise it, channel it differently. She began politely. ‘How was synagogue?’

  ‘It was a good service,’ he replied, giving her a small smile, and she realised Ben was not going to make it any easier for her.

  Edie felt her patience give and shifted to a more direct approach. ‘I can’t marry you, Ben,’ she said, her tone flat.

  He shrugged. ‘I gather you’re nervous.’

  His condescension made it easier. ‘That’s not it.’

  ‘Your voice is trembling.’

  ‘I feel uncomfortable having to confront you with this awkward situation.’

  ‘Well, I want to marry you, Edie. You know that.’

  ‘I do. But that doesn’t change how I feel.’

  ‘And how do you feel?’

  She wasn’t ready for such a question or his composure. Anger would have been far easier to confront. Edie hesitated as she reached for an appropriate response. ‘Well, I feel . . . unhappy.’

  ‘Unhappy?’ His tone was measured.

  He was using his lawyer’s negotiating skills.

  ‘Unhappy that I risk hurting you with this decision, but very determined. I cannot marry you, no matter how much Aunt Dena threatens.’

  ‘I see. But you can’t give me a reason why?’

  ‘I don’t love you . . . not the way a wife should.’

  ‘How do you know how a wife should love, my darling? How do you know that how you love me isn’t perfect?’

  ‘Please don’t, Ben. Don’t twist my words. Save that for your courtroom. I do not feel a romantic love for you.’

  He shook his head, his gaze slightly mocking. ‘Compared to what?’

  ‘To the love my parents felt.’

  ‘Your mother died at your birth, Edie. You have no concept of their relationship.’

  Edie swallowed her resentment at his patronising manner and decided she could no longer shield him from the truth. It was fair that he knew, no matter what the repercussions were. ‘All right, then. If you must hear this, I don’t love you in the way that I love someone else. Is that what you wanted to hear?’

  He laughed. ‘Well, that’s certainly intriguing,’ he said in a cryptic tone and gave her another condescending glance. Obviously Abba had warned him privately about Tom’s impact on her. She could hear familiar voices outside.

  ‘Your parents are here.’ She sighed.

  ‘Shall we join them?’

  ‘Ben?’ He turned back. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him, but Edie knew she now had to be clear even if it did wound. ‘Nothing they say, or you say, can convince me to change my mind. I do not love you as I should.’

  ‘Well, I shall and always will love you. Shall we?’ He gestured to the door and Edie felt powerless against his devotion . . . no, his obsession.

  _______________

  As they all held hands for the blessing that her father was preparing to give over the small feast she’d laid out, Edie heard distant footsteps and her heart leapt. A small sound – a sob – escaped, which she disguised as a cough. She craned to hear, eyes closed for the telltale sound of their side door that creaked when it opened.

  ‘So be it,’ they said together in Hebrew, although Edie was one beat behind because she paused on hearing a familiar groan of floorboards from downstairs.

  ‘That will be Tom,’ she murmured, relief making her want to weep. Her heart was pounding so hard that she had to stand for fear of her guests noticing.

  ‘Our houseguest,’ Abe said, not looking at Edie. ‘He won’t be staying for dinner.’

  She turned from the table and suddenly he was there – tall and broad, cheeks shining and pinched from the cold, teeth gleaming within a broad smile. In fact, his powerful presence felt overwhelming in the door frame in that instant and she sensed her whole body react to it with a rush of warmth, a choke in her throat, her pulse quickening further still. She wasn’t sure her voice would be steady – her hands certainly were not and she was glad one was laid firmly on the back of the chair.

  ‘Hello, Edie,’ he gushed, and the chill came in with him and seemed to settle around
her guests.

  ‘Tom, welcome back,’ Abe said politely. ‘Come meet the Levi family.’

  ‘Thank you, Abe. It took some effort but I found my way. The suit was delivered on time this morning, Sir.’

  Abe cleared his throat. ‘We have some family matters to discuss, Tom, so I thought you might drop by the pub for a counter meal. These are our oldest family friends. This is Benjamin Levi, Edie’s —’ He looked desperately uncomfortable.

  ‘I’m Edie’s fiancé, or at least, I think I am,’ Ben said, trying to make it sound sardonic but it came out forced. Edie felt sickened. ‘My parents . . . Samuel and Dena.’

  Tom grinned disarmingly, offering to shake hands, and Edie turned away, embarrassed. ‘Hello, Ben. I’ve heard plenty about you,’ Tom said.

  ‘All good, I hope?’ Ben replied predictably, Edie thought, and then winced as he laughed at his own jest; Ben sounded suddenly nervous. Tom was having an effect on him too, it seemed. ‘And I’ve been hearing plenty about you too, Tom. Edie couldn’t stop talking about you at our house last night.’

  Edie felt suddenly hot with shame.

  ‘Well, that’s encouraging,’ Tom said.

  Edie prayed her voice remained casual and steady. ‘Tom, do you want to freshen up?’ She hated that her father had already publicly dismissed him.

  ‘Not yet, Edie,’ he said and she turned back frowning, her breath suddenly trapped in her lungs.

  Abe fixed him with one of his disapproving stares. ‘You should, son. You smell like a brewery.’

  ‘Yes, forgive me for that. However, I haven’t drunk anything stronger than a pot of tea at a small railway café, Abe, but I have been to the pub, it’s true, and today walking around these neighbourhoods has given me time to think.’

  Everyone waited expectantly and watched as Tom dug into his inside breast pocket and shocked them by pulling out a roll of money. ‘I know this is not the appropriate moment, Abe, but I’d like to save us all a lot of time and trouble and buy the bolts of cloth from you.’

  They all stared in dull shock at the money Tom had placed on the sideboard. It looked grimy and well used. The Levis shared a confused look with each other and then back at their host, while Edie noted Ben’s gaze had not moved from Tom.

  Ben spoke first. ‘Good heavens! That looks to be several pounds,’ he said, in a forced levity.

  ‘Several indeed,’ Tom replied, glancing once at Edie. ‘Seven, to be precise.’

  She blanched, thunderstruck. ‘How did you come by this money?’ It was clear to her that Tom was not deterred by having an audience; in fact, he looked glad to be having this conversation publicly.

  He dug into another pocket and pulled out a half sovereign. ‘Remember this, Edie?’ She nodded, pale with shock. Tom shrugged. ‘I wagered it. I won it back, plus thirteen times its value.’

  ‘Wagered?’ Abe said, the most stunned of Tom’s audience. ‘On what?’

  ‘On Pretty Penny.’

  Their guests gasped again in surprise.

  ‘Have you been to the races today?’ Abe asked, sounding so shocked that Edie stepped closer to him and laid a calming hand on his arm.

  ‘No, Sir. I gave my only coin to someone I met a couple of days ago. He wasn’t keen to take it, but I insisted because I was determined to repay your hospitality. Now I can do that and can offer you a premium for your cloth if you’ll accept it.’

  ‘You’re buying Abe Valentine’s cloth?’ Ben queried, bemused. ‘What, all that fabric stored out the back, gathering dust?’

  Tom nodded.

  ‘What’s the catch?’

  ‘No catch, Ben,’ Tom replied, his tone cool, almost with a hint of warning.

  Abe opened his palms in dismay. ‘But, Tom, you don’t know the first thing about that cloth, or about tailoring.’

  ‘This has nothing to do with tailoring, Abe. This is about commercial enterprise. We agreed, didn’t we, that you needed to shift that cloth?’ He glanced at Edie. ‘Didn’t we?’

  She bit her lip, wondering where Tom was leading her with this conversation and whether it was wise to have it now, in this company. She breathed out, trusting him. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘The three of us agreed that the cloth was useless sitting in a storeroom.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Abe, let me buy it and sell it on at no risk or embarrassment to you.’

  ‘But, Tom, my father has spoken to the buyer from Savile Row. Why would you —’

  She watched Tom lock stares with Abe before a small, wry grin appeared in his expression. ‘Your father hasn’t taken coffee with the fellow from Savile Row yet.’

  Edie turned to her father. ‘You did, though, didn’t you, Abba? Gieves & Hawkes. You said —’

  ‘I haven’t yet, child,’ her father replied smoothly.

  Edie felt her heart sink. Abba had been toying with Tom.

  ‘What’s going on here, Abe?’ Dena asked but won a glare from her husband.

  Tom proceeded as if he and Abe were the only ones in the room. ‘So let’s not even ask you to do that, Abe,’ he continued. ‘You’re a proud man. You’re a great tailor and you don’t need to give the impression that you need Savile Row to take the cloth off your hands.’

  Edie turned to her father. ‘Is that troubling you?’

  ‘I would appear like a peddler,’ he admitted. ‘Desperate.’

  ‘I can save you that heartache, Abe. Here’s the cash,’ Tom gestured again at the grubby pile. ‘More than you had anticipated and I will take only what we agree is fair, which is perhaps one third of what you have stockpiled. Right now it’s earning nothing.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure Abe has plans for that cloth,’ Ben began. ‘I mean, if money is required, I’d be happy to ask my —’

  ‘Don’t, Ben,’ Edie warned, desperate for this scene not to become any more intense. She saw the flame ignite in Tom’s expression, and it burned brightly in his eyes as he shifted his attention to the man she was promised to.

  ‘Firstly, Ben, you’re missing the point. But it’s best you don’t involve yourself, for I don’t have to ask my family for money.’ Ben opened his mouth in expected indignation but Tom continued. ‘I have my own money right here.’

  Ben stood, his chair scraping back. ‘Now, listen here, Tom, or whatever your name is. I have every right to be involved in my fiancée’s future. As a lawyer, it’s my duty to advise Abe on anything he might want to involve himself in commercially.’

  ‘Really? And what about Edie?’

  ‘Tom,’ Edie said, but it was too late. Her suitors had locked horns and nothing could prevent the inevitable tussle.

  ‘What about Edie?’ Ben challenged.

  ‘Her future, for starters.’

  ‘Edie’s future is with me, as my wife. She may deny that right now, but I’m sure my parents and I can convince her —’

  ‘Is that it?’ Tom said.

  ‘It?’

  ‘Is that all Edie has to look forward to? Being your wife, I mean?’

  Ben looked back at him, aghast. ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘Too subtle for you?’ Tom mocked and Edie felt the pain of the parry of words as the man she loved drew first blood from the man her father loved. ‘You’re entitled to follow your heart, your dreams. How about Edie?’

  Dena clearly couldn’t keep her silence a moment longer. ‘Abe, who is this stranger who —’

  ‘What dreams?’ Ben interjected, as he looked at Edie, then at Abe, who was suspiciously silent. ‘I know she is a splendid dressmaker.’

  ‘Have you asked Edie what she looks forward to doing with her life, other than being your wife, mother to your children, keeper of your house? You don’t excite her now, how do you plan to keep her interest for years to come?’

  Ben blinked and Edie felt a wave of sorrow. She cut Tom a look, pleading for him to stop. She saw his expression soften.

  ‘Will someone stop this man?’ Dena demanded.

  ‘Be quiet, mother,’ Ben murmured.

&nb
sp; ‘Enough!’ Abe struggled to stand but shook off Edie’s helping hand. ‘Tom, I think you have breathed a new and fiery wind into our home that might bring about change that will burn everyone it touches.’

  Edie watched Tom take a slow breath. ‘I’m gathering you wish me to take my fire elsewhere, Abe,’ he offered.

  Abe nodded. ‘Let it burn in your own belly, son. It will cause pain here.’

  ‘Pain for whom, Abe? For Ben, who wants to marry your daughter? For his family that feels entitled to her because it was agreed before she was even born? For you, who wants Ben as a son-in-law because that’s what your wife wanted? Or for Edie, who isn’t getting a say in any aspect of her life?’

  The old man raised a finger of caution.

  Ben’s composure deserted him and he began to splutter his objections. ‘Who are you to come into this house and speak so directly as if you don’t owe a great debt to the Valentine family?’

  Tom looked away from Ben as though he barely mattered and fixed his attention on Abe. ‘I owe a debt and am well aware of it, Mr Levi. Which is why I plan to pay it back tenfold. Abe, please, as a business venture, allow me to buy your cloth and then I will leave your household.’

  Edie gasped inwardly. No, surely he wouldn’t leave her?

  Abe finally sighed. ‘All right, Tom. Maybe it will set you up, get you started in life again.’

  ‘It will,’ he replied. ‘I will not hand the money across your Shabbat table. But you know it is here. Can we shake on the deal?’

  ‘I do not deal on Shabbat. But you have my word that we have agreed on our exchange,’ Abe said. ‘You can collect the cloth whenever you are in a position to. In the meantime, I wish you to take one of those pounds and go find yourself a hotel in London, pay for some time to organise your thoughts, feed yourself and make a plan.’

  ‘Abba . . .’ Edie let go of the breath she had been holding tightly since Tom had begun talking about her dreams. Even Ben had fallen silent. So her suspicions were correct; her father had betrayed her at the synagogue after their talk of the Valentines sticking together.