Page 58 of The Last Kiss

“I suppose…” It was a stupid question, but Ash didn’t know what else to say. “I suppose you’ve spoken to your father about training to — ”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. If he’s refusing to let me volunteer at Chewton because of the damage to my ‘marriage prospects’ he’s hardly going to pay for me to train as a doctor.”

“No, quite. Sorry.”

She stopped walking, shook her head. Poor thing, he could tell she was clinging to the edge of civility. “I don’t mean to snap.”

“That’s alright. I know — I know exactly how frustrating it is when…when what you want is out of reach. And for bloody stupid reasons, too.” He winced. “Pardon my French.”

Olive snorted. “Bloody stupid indeed.”

“What will you do?”

“WhatcanI do? I have nothing but pin money and if I defied him, I’d have nothing to live on at all. Father would cut me off.”

They carried on walking and, tentatively, Ash said, “If you married, you’d be a wealthy woman…”

“Oh certainly. I’d have money settled on me. And Milford Cottage — which, by the way, is a dreadful crumbling pile slap-bang in the middle of nowhere! — and a husband who’d trap me there like a brood mare.” She looked wretched, horrified. “No, it’s impossible. I couldn’t do it. I’d rather die.”

That was putting it rather strongly, but her stricken expression convinced him of every word. “Could you — ?” He cleared his throat. “Could you find paid work as a nurse?”

She shook her head, though he didn’t miss the flash of longing in her eyes. “For that, I’d need qualifications and training. And forthatI need money.” She kicked at a stone. “I’ve considered looking for other work in London — secretarial work, even waitressing. But the pay is so low and with rent on top I’d never be able to save enough to train…” She sighed. “And perhaps I’m a coward, Ashleigh, but I’m afraid to leave all this behind. I don’t know if I could cope on my own, without any friends in the world.”

Her words struck home. “I’ve had the same thoughts — of leaving all this behind and striking out somewhere new with nothing. I have the advantage of an education, but… Like you, very little experience of any useful trade. I-I don’t know how I’d manage.”

“Besides, why should we? Why should we let them drive us out? The world is changing and it’s not our fault our fathers don’t see it.”

“But they still hold all the cards.” At the entrance to the wilderness, Ash paused, leaning up against the brickwork arch and looking through it into the forest beyond. He’d kissed Harry out there in the wildwood, hidden from the world.

“What would you do?” Olive said, joining him. “If you had your way.”

“I’d have a place in the country.” He smiled, letting his mind drift. “Deep in the country. And I’d breed horses.”

She gave him a quizzical look. “I didn’t know you had any interest in horse breeding.”

He looked down, tapped his cane against the gravel. “No. I’d need” — a twist in his heart — “someone to help me.”

“I see.” After a pause, Olive said, “That sounds rather idyllic, I suppose.”

“But not for you?”

“Lord, no. I’ve spent my life in the country. I want to be in London, or another great city. I want people and ideas and…oh, everything modern.”

“Perhaps you could persuade your father to take you to London?” He hated seeing her so downcast. “Don’t give up, Olive. Who knows what the next few years will bring?”

Fixing him with a hard look she said, “Nothing. They’llbringnothing, Ashleigh. The men who run the world want to keep it for themselves, so the only way to get what we want is to take it. Bugger the rules and bugger the men who make them.”

She was right, of course, but it was easier said than done — at least, for him and Harry. Even Olive would baulk at the life they wanted, and he could hardly stand up and fight for it when just breaking cover could land him in gaol. And not only him, but the man he loved. It would be like fighting with both hands tied behind his back, and Ash didn’t know whether he dared try.

***

Harry kept his head down all day, saying nothing to nobody. Keeping his nose clean.

Boyd had taken him aside first thing that morning, his walnut-brown face creased with awkwardness. “Nod to the wise,” he’d said, “but Sir Arthur come by last night, with words for me about you. Seems he thinks you’re a mite too friendly with Mr Ashleigh.”

As long as he lived, Harry would never forget the punch of dread he’d felt at those words. He’d barely been able to scrape out an answer. “Meaning what?”

“Giving him revolutionary ideas, apparently. He don’t want Mr Ashleigh fraternizing with the staff — told me to keep an eye on you. And not only me, I reckon.” He’d sighed. “Look, I know you and Mr Ashleigh was friends at the front, Harry, but you’re here now. It’s different. And folks like Sir Arthur, they like the old ways preserved — everyone in their place.”

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