The Mysterious Death of Charles Bravo by Tim Vicary. Part 3 .
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Chapter 4 | Florence Bravo’s story
I liked Dr Gully a lot. He was the most intelligent man I had ever met. He told me interesting things, and he made me laugh. He was also very kind – much kinder than my husband Alexander, or my father.
I was very happy on that holiday in Germany. We went everywhere together; we talked and laughed all day, and sang and danced in the evening. For a short time, I thought I was in love with him. But of course he was much, much older than me. Some people in the hotel thought he was my grandfather. Some of them smiled at us, but others looked at us angrily . We slept together in the same bedroom, but we were not married. Most people thought that was very wrong.
One evening, he asked me to marry him. I was surprised. It was impossible, of course. I didn’t know what to say. I smiled and touched his face.
James, that’s a lovely idea,’ I said. ‘But we can’t marry, can we? You have a wife.’
Yes, I know,’ he said. ‘But she’s old and ill; she won’t live long. Will you wait for me, Florence? Please? We can marry when she’s dead.’
I walked away from him, slowly. I don’t want to make him unhappy, I thought, but … what will people say if I marry a man more than twice as old as me?
It’s very difficult, James,’ I said. ‘My parents won’t talk to me because of you. They say I need a husband of my own age. Perhaps they’re right. We are good friends – isn’t that enough?’
He held my hands and looked into my eyes. I could see he was hurt.
You should marry the man you love,’ he said. ‘That’s the right thing to do. Any other kind of marriage will be a lie – a terrible mistake.’
I looked up at him. ‘Yes, James, I know. Don’t worry – I don’t want another husband like Alexander. Let me think about this, will you? It’s not easy to decide.’
When we came back to England, I bought a large house called The Priory. It was in a village called Balham, near London. Dr Gully left his hospital in Malvern and bought a house called Orwell Lodge, just five minutes’ walk away from my house. We met nearly every day – I had a key to his house, and he had a key to mine. We went for walks and rides in the countryside around Balham. We were still friends. It was almost as good as in Germany.
Almost, but not quite. I was young – I wanted friends of my own age. But I couldn’t make new friends because Dr Gully was always there. People knew we weren’t married, so they didn’t want to know us. Often, married women walked past me in the street, with their noses in the air. They knew me very well, but they refused to speak to me or even look at me. To them, I was just something dirty in the street.
That made me miserable and angry. It was so unfair: no one was unkind to Dr Gully, because he was a man! Men – even married men – can do what they like. But if a woman does something wrong, then no one will speak to her.
I needed a woman friend – someone I could talk to about women’s things, when James was not there. I put an advertisement for a ‘lady companion’ in a newspaper, and a woman called Jane Cox answered it.
I liked Jane. She was a widow, and she needed money to send her three children to school. So I gave her the job, and she came to live with me. We became friends. We talked, all the time, and went shopping together.
I’m not sure if Dr Gully liked Jane. He was very polite to her, but sometimes, I think, he wished she was not there. He wanted to be my only friend.
But that’s why I needed Jane. I needed a woman to talk to about Dr Gully . He was kind, and clever, but he was so much older than me. I was lonely, and worried. I didn’t know what to do.
And then one day I fell ill. I was in bed for several weeks. My companion, Jane Cox, looked after me. I talked to her a lot. She liked Dr Gully, but she didn’t want me to marry him.
His wife may live for ten more years,’ she said. ‘Anyway, you need a younger man.’
It’s easy to say that, Jane,’ I said. ‘But where can I find a young man who is as clever and kind as James Gully?’
I think I know someone,’ Jane said.
Really, Jane?’ I asked. ‘Who?’
Jane smiled. ‘I know a family called Bravo. I met them in Jamaica. They have a son called Charles. I think you’ll like him.’