The Mysterious Death of Charles Bravo by Tim Vicary. Part 7.
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Chapter 8. Florence Bravo’s story
When Jane Cox told me what Charles had said, I was very worried. Jane was very important to me. I didn’t want to lose her.
On Tuesday, April 18th, I felt a little better, so I got up. It was my first day out of bed. Jane went to Worthing to look at a holiday house for us, and I went to London with Charles. In the carriage he said: ‘I’m pleased Jane’s gone to Worthing, Florence. We haven’t been alone together for two weeks. I’ll be happy when that woman is gone.’
‘Please don’t say that, Charles,’ I said. ‘Jane is my best friend.’
‘She was your best friend, darling,’ said Charles, smiling. ‘Before you met me. Now I’m your best friend, aren’t I?’
‘Well yes,’ I answered. ‘But you’re my husband, Charles. I need Jane, to talk about women’s things. That’s what I pay her for.’
‘Well, she’s too expensive,’ Charles said. ‘I spoke to her yesterday. I told her to leave at the end of the month.’
‘But Charles, you can’t do that!’ I said. ‘She needs the money to look after her children. Anyway, she works for me, not you. So she’s staying, Charles. All right?’
‘No!’ he shouted. He held my arm hard, really hard, and it hurt. He was strong – much stronger than me – and his face was close to mine. ‘You’re my wife, Florence – you do what I say! Do you understand?’
I was frightened. ‘Let go of my arm, Charles! People in the street are watching – what will they think?’
‘I don’t care,’ he said. ‘It’s none of their business. What are you going to do – call Dr Gully?’ We were driving past Dr Gully’s house at the time.
‘Don’t be stupid, Charles,’ I said. ‘You know I don’t talk to Dr Gully any more. I told you – you’re my husband, I love you, not him!’
‘Do you?’ he said. He still held my arm. ‘Well, kiss me then. And forget about Jane and Dr Gully.’
I was afraid, so I kissed him. Then we drove on in silence. It was a bad start to the day, but before we got to London Charles was happy again. He talked to me kindly and told funny stories. He was often like that – angry for a short time, then friendly a few minutes later. He was a difficult man, but I tried to understand him. That’s what a wife has to do, isn’t it? Understand her husband and love him. But I was very worried about losing Jane.
In London Charles visited his cousin, Dr Royes Bell. I went shopping. After lunch I went home and had a rest; it was my first day out of bed. Charles came home later. He was happy and excited. ‘I’m going out for a ride,’ he said. He went outside and called the groom.
‘Get that big horse, Cremorne, ready for me, man. Quickly, now.’
‘Is that a good idea, sir?’ the groom asked. ‘Cremorne’s been a little difficult this week.’
Charles thought he knew a lot about horses but he didn’t, really. He shouted angrily at the groom. ‘Don’t argue with me, man! Get him ready! I know how to ride my own horse, damn you!’
But an hour later he came home, shaking. His face was white and his shirt was wet with sweat. ‘That horse Cremorne is dangerous!’ he said. ‘We’ll have to sell it.’
‘Why, Charles,’ I asked, ‘what happened?’
‘The horse ran away with me. For six miles he wouldn’t stop.’
‘How awful! Are you hurt? Did you fall off?’
‘No, thank God, I didn’t. But my arms and chest hurt. He’s very strong, that horse – like a wild animal!’
‘Go upstairs and rest before dinner. I’m sorry you were frightened, Charles.’
He walked slowly upstairs with his hand on his chest. At the top, he looked down angrily.
‘I wasn’t frightened, Florence, don’t be silly. Anyway, it’s the groom’s fault, not mine. He gave the horse too much food, that’s all.’
Charles still looked ill at dinner that evening. Jane talked to him about the holiday house in Worthing but he didn’t answer. He ate a lot of food and drank three glasses of wine. After dinner I was tired, so I went up to my bedroom. Jane came up a few minutes later.
My maidservant, Mary Ann, brought me a glass of wine to help me sleep. But Charles came into my bedroom and saw it. He didn’t like me drinking wine in the evening. He often tried to stop me.
‘You drink too much, Florence,’ he said. ‘I’ve told you before. You’ll make yourself ill.’
‘It’s true. I did sometimes feel ill after drinking wine. I was sick once or twice, I don’t know why. But wine usually made me feel warm, and sleepy. I liked that.
‘I’m tired, Charles,’ I said. ‘Leave me alone.’
Charles went out. I lay down in bed, and Jane sat beside me, reading aloud from a book. It was peaceful in my bedroom and I was very sleepy. My maid came back in.
‘Do you want anything else, madam?’ she asked.
‘No, thank you, Mary Ann,’ I said. ‘Just take the dogs downstairs, will you, please?’
Mary Ann went out with my two dogs and closed the doors behind her. There are two doors to my bedroom – an outside door and an inside door – and she closed them both. I like that; it makes the room very quiet. I lay there for a minute or two, listening to Jane’s voice reading to me, and then …
… I fell asleep.
I don’t know what happened next. Mary Ann says that Charles called for help. But I didn’t hear him. I was asleep.