The Lie Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Recent Titles by Linda Sole from Severn House

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Recent Titles by Linda Sole from Severn House

  The Sarah Beaufort Mystery Series

  MISCARRIAGE OF JUSTICE

  JUSTICE IS SERVED

  A DIFFERENT KIND OF JUSTICE

  The Country House Series

  GIVE ME TOMORROW

  A BRIGHT NEW DAY

  WISH DOWN THE MOON

  The London Series

  BRIDGET

  KATHY

  AMY

  THE TIES THAT BIND

  THE BONDS THAT BREAK

  THE HEARTS THAT HOLD

  THE ROSE ARCH

  A CORNISH ROSE

  A ROSE IN WINTER

  FLAME CHILD

  A SONG FOR ATHENA

  writing as Anne Herries

  A WICKED WENCH

  MILADY’S REVENGE

  The Civil War Series

  LOVERS AND ENEMIES

  LOVE LIES WEEPING

  THE SEEDS OF SIN

  LOVE IS NOT ENOUGH

  THE LIE

  A Family Feud Saga

  Linda Sole

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  First world edition published 2008

  in Great Britain and 2009 in the USA by

  SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of

  9–15 High Street, Sutton, Surrey, England, SM1 1DF.

  Copyright © 2008 by Linda Sole.

  All rights reserved.

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

  Sole, Linda

  The lie

  1. World War, 1939-1945 - Great Britain - Fiction 2. Great

  Britain - Social life and customs - 1918-1945 - Fiction

  3. Domestic fiction

  I. Title

  823.9'14[F]

  ISBN-13: 978-1-78010-249-8 (ePub)

  ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-6711-7 (cased)

  Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.

  This ebook produced by

  Palimpsest Book Production Limited,

  Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland.

  One

  Emily stood for a moment at the top of the stairs listening to the music. Someone had put a Glenn Miller record on rather loudly, and the big band music reverberated throughout the house. It all felt so wrong, so very wrong with Daddy so recently dead. Oh, damn it, she didn’t want to do this, she really didn’t. For a moment her eyes filled with tears and she could feel the sense of loss strong and bitter inside her. Why did he have to die? He was still young, only in his early fifties.

  She shook her head, her soft brown hair falling across her face. Emily was wearing her hair loose that afternoon, because she was forced to put it up out of the way for work, though it suited her better down. But there was no time to think about your looks when you were manning the phones for the Fire Service. She had changed shifts with another girl to get this afternoon off, and now she wished she hadn’t, but Frances had refused to let her get out of it.

  ‘You’ve got to come to my party. You’re my sister!’

  ‘But I’m on duty . . .’

  ‘You can change if you want to. You know you can.’

  So of course she had given in. She sighed, knowing that she would have to go down soon or Frances would come and fetch her. It was her elder sister’s twenty-first birthday and she was entitled to her party. Every last detail had been planned for months and the family had decided to go ahead despite being in mourning.

  Except that it seemed to Emily that she and Connor were the only ones grieving for their father. Her younger brother was at school, and she had told him not to hurry home that evening, because he wouldn’t have liked to walk into this, and would probably go out again at once. Daniel would be upset when he knew, of course, but he’d been ill for weeks now and they wouldn’t let her see him at first, and then she hadn’t felt like going to visit, had felt she couldn’t face him. She had written to him about their father, of course, but there had been no reply.

  She dreaded to think what Daniel would say if he knew about the party. She was sure he would never have agreed to it. Daniel would have thought it too soon, as Emily did herself.

  She had five siblings: two brothers, Henry and Clay, were older than Daniel, both married and living in their own houses; then came Frances; Emily herself; and Connor. And then there was her father’s wife, Margaret, a much younger woman he had married while Daniel was away. Dan had never met Margaret, though of course he had been told about the wedding, which had taken place after a whirlwind affair.

  Emily’s frown deepened as she thought about her stepmother. Margaret had agreed instantly to the party going ahead, though she might have been expected to reject the idea. Robert Searles was hardly in his grave and yet his widow’s laughter could be heard echoing through the house. She clearly wasn’t going to let her husband’s death upset her for too long, Emily thought resentfully.

  Oh, she must stop this. Her father was dead and she had to get over it. She had to move on, think about her own life.

  She had never liked Margaret! Emily had tried hard to accept her father’s second wife, but she had never really approved of her. In Emily’s opinion, Margaret was too greedy, too calculating. She was attractive, with honey-blonde hair, green eyes that reminded Emily of a cat, and a wide mouth on which she wore far too much red lipstick.

  Margaret had made Robert’s life less lonely during his last few months – Emily was honest enough to admit that. For that reason she had struggled to keep the peace between them even when under severe provocation, but she could not feel warmth or affection towards her stepmother.

  Sighing, Emily began to walk down the stairs. She was a pretty girl, just eighteen, slim, of medium height with softly waving brown hair that looked red in a certain light, and melting chocolate eyes. She didn’t want to but knew she had to make an appearance at her sister’s party. It wasn’t just a birthday party, after all: Frances was going to announce her engagement to Marcus Danby – and perhaps a part of Emily’s reluctance was that she had always liked Marcus herself.

  She wasn’t in love with him, of course. It was just that his dry sense of humour amused her. Marcus was serving in the air force, and his leave had happened to fall this weekend, which had worked out well for Frances. Lucky Frances! But then, she always seemed to fall on her feet. At least, it seemed that way to others. Emily wasn’t exactly envious, but she wished that some of her sister’s luck would rub off on her.

  She paused to glance at herself in the large gilt-framed mirror at the bottom of the stairs, fluffing out her hair again. Rathmere was in the main street of Stretton Village and one of the best in the area. In f
act, only Stretton Park was bigger and better, and that belonged to Mr Samuel Danby. Marcus was his eldest son, and everyone agreed that it was a perfect match between the families.

  Emily caught a glimpse of her sister through the open door of the large front parlour. Frances certainly looked happy and beautiful. Emily felt a pang of envy, mixed liberally with warm affection and admiration. Her sister always got exactly what she wanted, and she had wanted Marcus since she was a schoolgirl in pigtails. Well, she had got it all now, and whether Emily approved of holding this party so soon after her father’s death or not, there was little she could do about it.

  ‘Ah, there you are, child,’ Margaret said, coming out of the large front parlour into the hall. ‘What on earth have you been doing?’

  ‘Getting dressed.’

  Margaret’s eyes flicked over her stepdaughter disapprovingly. The dress Emily had chosen was grey with a white collar, elbow-length sleeves and white cuffs, perfect for a girl in mourning but hardly suitable for a party. Margaret herself was dressed in green silk, a pretty afternoon dress that would have graced any London drawing room. It was her colour and made her look younger than her thirty-five years.

  ‘You could have chosen something smarter for this afternoon, Emily.’ The disapproval was strong in her voice.

  ‘It’s what I felt like wearing.’ Emily couldn’t keep a note of accusation out of her voice. ‘After all, it is only a month since Daddy died, isn’t it?’

  Margaret’s gaze narrowed. ‘I hope you’re not going to spread gloom. This is your sister’s special day. Please don’t spoil it for her.’

  ‘I can go and change if you like.’

  Before Margaret could reply, Frances came swooping down on them. Her face was glowing with happiness as she flashed her left hand under Emily’s nose. She was dressed in a pretty blue outfit that suited her fair good looks down to the ground, and she looked beautiful.

  ‘Isn’t it wonderful? I’m just so lucky.’

  The ring was a band of five large white diamonds set in platinum; expensive and just what Emily would have expected from the heir to Stretton Park.

  ‘It’s lovely, Frances,’ she said. ‘And yes, you are lucky.’

  ‘I know,’ Frances trilled. ‘Marcus says we’ll get married next time he’s home on leave.’

  ‘And when will that be?’

  ‘In a couple of weeks. We’ll have to do it by special licence, of course, but I’ve got my dress and there’s no chance of a proper cake, anyway. We’ll have a cardboard one as a decoration and make do with what we can scrounge for the tea . . .’ She stopped and frowned as she saw Emily’s face. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Do you think you should? Isn’t it too soon after . . .’ Emily swallowed hard. ‘You know . . .’

  ‘You mean because Dad is dead?’ The light died in Frances’s eyes. ‘Don’t be so mean, Emily. I was trying not to think about that today. Besides, I can’t bring him back whatever I do.’

  ‘You could wait for a while . . .’

  ‘You don’t know what you’re asking. You’ve never been in love.’ Frances screwed up her mouth. ‘So many of them are getting shot down. It could be Marcus next . . .’

  ‘Oh, Frances,’ Emily said, looking contrite. ‘I hadn’t thought of that. I am so sorry.’

  ‘Your trouble is that you never think before you speak,’ Margaret said. ‘You’re just too selfish.’

  ‘Don’t say that to Emily.’ Frances instinctively defended her sister. ‘She wasn’t being selfish. She’s right about it being too soon after Dad’s death – but we don’t want to wait, and I’m sure he would say it was all right.’

  ‘Yes, he would,’ Emily agreed, and smiled as Frances put an arm about her waist. They were united in their dislike of Margaret, though neither would say anything bad about their stepmother openly. ‘It’s just me being silly.’

  ‘Let’s forget it for now. We’ll talk later,’ Frances said. ‘Come and meet someone, Emily. Marcus has brought a friend along – he’s rather nice.’

  Emily arched her fine brows. Frances was always introducing her to Marcus’s friends with just that phrase. She found most of the young men trotted out for her benefit either dull, priggish or just not her type. However, the latest in a long line of candidates was more interesting than most.

  ‘This is Simon Vane,’ Frances said. ‘We’ve only just met this afternoon, but he flies with Marcus as his navigator – Simon, this is my sister, Emily.’

  ‘Hello.’ Simon grinned at her in a friendly way. ‘Things are looking up suddenly. Here I was thinking the only pretty girl in the place was spoken for – and now you appear. It must be my lucky day.’

  ‘Do you flatter all the girls like that?’ Emily was smiling. She was drawn to him immediately, liking his smile and his extreme good looks, but she didn’t intend to fall at his feet.

  ‘Certainly not! Cross my heart and hope to die.’

  ‘Don’t say that,’ Frances said, and glanced at Marcus across the room. ‘I’ll leave you two to fight it out, I think. Bye for now . . .’

  Emily watched her sister flit across the room to join her fiancé, turning to discover that Simon’s eyes were on her. They were a deep blue, his hair a dark honey-blond, though his brows were darker, which made him very striking to look at. He had a lazy charm about him that Emily found attractive, though she noticed that his lips were quite thin.

  What was it people said about thin lips? She couldn’t recall for the moment . . .

  ‘Do you have to stay here?’ Simon asked, glancing around the crowded room, which was full of people he obviously didn’t know. ‘We could go for a spin in my car if you like . . .’

  Emily glanced at her sister. Frances was laughing at something Marcus had said, obviously happy. Margaret seemed to be deep in conversation with Clay. They looked as if they might be arguing, though she had no idea why. Henry seemed not to have shown up, but he was probably busy on the farm, and he usually avoided anything like this if he could.

  ‘I don’t think anyone will notice,’ Emily said, feeling reckless. ‘Have you got enough petrol for pleasure jaunts?’ Most people were suffering from shortages of all kinds because of the war, but she believed that there were ways of getting round the petrol rationing if you knew the right people.

  ‘My father gets more than his share – privileged member of the Government’s legal advisory service,’ Simon whispered, and winked at her. ‘He makes sure I have a full tank when I need it. For some unknown reason he is rather proud of me . . .’

  ‘I expect he would be,’ Emily replied. ‘We’re all proud of you. Let’s go then. I’ve put in an appearance, and I didn’t want to come at all.’

  ‘Don’t you like parties?’ Simon asked, as they escaped through a side door and he led the way to where his Morgan sports car was parked. ‘Special present just before I joined up.’

  Emily was suitably impressed. ‘I haven’t seen one of these before. It’s beautiful – and yes, I do like parties, but not just at the moment.’

  ‘Any particular reason why?’ he asked, with a lift of his brows.

  ‘Hasn’t anyone told you?’

  Simon shook his head.

  ‘My father died a month ago after a nasty illness. I haven’t got over it yet.’

  ‘I should think not!’ He glanced back at the house, from which music and laughter could still be heard spilling out into the quiet village street. ‘Bit soon for all that, isn’t it?’

  ‘Frances had been planning her twenty-first birthday party for months. Marcus sent her a telegram suggesting they get engaged. I suppose you can’t blame them – the way things are . . .’

  ‘No, it’s a bit fraught at the moment. We none of us know if the next mission will be our last.’

  Emily slipped into the car as he held the door for her, carefully tucking her dress inside before shutting it. ‘It must be terrifying. I’m sure I would never have the courage to go up in a plane, let alone go into battle.’

&
nbsp; ‘Oh, you would if you had to,’ Simon said, dismissing the subject with a shrug. ‘One day I might take you up for a spin if you’re game.’

  ‘Are you allowed to do that?’

  ‘Shouldn’t think so for a minute,’ Simon quipped. ‘That never stops me if I want to do something enough. I might get a rocket from the CO but he won’t ground me. Can’t get enough of us as it is.’

  He had started the engine. It roared to life as they shot down the High Street and round the tight corner by the church.

  ‘Where shall we go?’

  ‘I don’t mind.’ Emily laughed as he put his foot down. If he was trying to scare her, it wasn’t working. ‘You turn that way for Cambridge – the other will lead you to Ely.’

  ‘Let’s go there,’ Simon said. ‘We can walk by the river and then go to a tea shop and indulge ourselves. They had some rather good honey the last time I was there.’

  ‘And when was that?’

  ‘Yesterday. I am interested in the cathedral as a building. That’s what I was training for before this lark started – classical architecture.’

  ‘That sounds fascinating – and clever.’

  ‘Fascinating, certainly; I can’t vouch for clever. My father thinks it’s just an excuse to get out of following him into the law. Now you do have to be clever for that . . .’

  ‘Have you designed anything yet – anything that has been built, I mean?’

  ‘Nothing important. I was still studying, you see.’

  ‘Will you go back to your studies after the war?’

  ‘Probably, if I can. It’s all I want to do. I’m not interested in being a barrister or sitting on the bench, as Father does. Awfully proud of the old boy, of course – but each to his own. Wouldn’t you agree?’

  ‘Yes, I think so. My brothers have gone into farming, except for Daniel. He joined the Army at the start of the war, but I suppose he’ll go back to the land when he comes home.’

  ‘And what do you do?’ Simon looked at her curiously. ‘Anything interesting?’