The Children's Hour Page 25

  For a second, just for a fleeting moment, she watched him catch the vision, saw the glow of it touch his face alight before it died and his eyes were bleak again.

  ‘We couldn’t afford it,’ he said, ‘even if I wanted to. Joe couldn’t run it alone and it wouldn’t stand a bar manager’s salary yet. Anyway, we’d never get another loan to start a new place.’

  ‘What if we used the money from the house in Iffley for the new place?’

  He laughed and shook his head. ‘I wondered how long it would be before that was dragged in. A drop in the ocean . . .’

  ‘You could sell this house.’

  ‘Have you forgotten I’ve got a huge mortgage on it? Forget it.’

  Another pause.

  ‘You said “even if I wanted to” just now.’ Lyddie spoke slowly. ‘That’s the whole point, isn’t it? You don’t want to change, or leave The Place and, if you’re really honest, I think you don’t want us even to try, do you?’

  ‘I can’t see what all the fuss is about. You were perfectly happy before. Nothing’s changed.’

  ‘Oh, but it has,’ she said quickly. ‘Everything’s changed as far as I’m concerned.’

  ‘I’m the same person I always was.’

  ‘Oh, yes, but, you see, I didn’t really know the person you’ve always been. I only knew a part of you and I fell in love with that part. But now I know that you lie and cheat, that I’ll never know in future whether you really are going to the bank, or the cash and carry, or a meeting with the accountant, or whether you’re upstairs in the storeroom with the new waitress. That’s quite a change.’ She watched him for a moment. ‘You really can’t see it, can you?’

  He shrugged. ‘So what do you want to do?’

  ‘I’ve already told you what I’d like us to do.’

  ‘It’s out of the question.’

  She was silent, the fear mushrooming so that it filled her with misery.

  ‘I knew it was over when I came in and saw you,’ she said at last. ‘It was as if you were a complete stranger. As if, in those three days, you’d changed completely.’

  He looked away from her. ‘You shouldn’t have gone away,’ he said.

  ‘What does that mean?’ she cried. ‘If I’d stayed would you now be considering my suggestion for a new start?’

  ‘No,’ he answered. ‘No, I wouldn’t. But it gave me the time to see that . . .’

  He hesitated so long that she guessed his meaning. ‘It gave you time to see that you don’t need me enough to change for me. For us.’

  He nodded, still not looking at her. ‘Something like that.’

  ‘And how much input did Rosie contribute to your decision?’

  ‘Rosie’s always been there when I needed her.’

  It was as if he’d struck her across the face. ‘And how many times was that during these last two years?’ she asked furiously. ‘My God! And I thought we were so happy.’

  He frowned almost distastefully, as if she were in some way offending his sensibilities, and looked at her at last.

  ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘It has changed, I see that, but,’ he opened his hands and then let them drop, ‘I see no point in talking about it.’

  ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Great. So that’s it, is it? Two years of marriage down the pan, just like that.’

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ he said, and stood up. ‘Sorry. I’m really sorry, Lyddie. I made the mistake of falling in love. Oh, I did. You were different, you see. Clever with words. Aloof. Just that bit unattainable and it was a challenge. But I don’t need it. I know that now, not if it means rows and arguments and questions. I can’t hack all that stuff. Rosie knows me. We’re on the same wavelength. She knows how I feel about The Place and puts up with it. She accepts that I need variety now and then. She doesn’t like it but she doesn’t complain. She knows that I don’t want kids and neither does she. She’ll go along with what I do and what I want.’

  ‘And what do I do?’

  ‘Well.’ He didn’t quite shrug it off. ‘You’ve got your work and, after all,’ he gave a little laugh, ‘there’s always the money from the house in Iffley.’ Even he seemed to feel the brutality of his quip and he bit his lip. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘That was cheap. I’m no good at this stuff, I’m afraid. You’ve always got the Aunts as a stopgap.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘So I have.’

  ‘I’ll be at The Place,’ he said, ‘if you need me. You’d better speak to your lawyer.’ He paused, his jacket hanging over one shoulder, head lowered. ‘And thanks, Lyddie.’ He looked at her, grimaced. ‘It was great while it lasted.’

  She heard his footsteps pass the window and die away. The Bosun came in and looked at her hopefully. She stared back at him, wondering if it were remotely possible that she should be capable of standing up, let alone walking, but, after a moment, she got up and fetched her coat and they went out into the evening together.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  ‘Of course she must come,’ said Hannah. ‘Of course she must. The kids could go to Mum for a couple of days.’

  ‘It’s just for two nights and then she’s going to Ottercombe until she can sort herself out,’ said Jack who was sitting on the sofa with Caligula lying on his chest, purring loudly. ‘Apparently she’s got to get back to work again by next weekend – she’s booked up until Christmas and she doesn’t want to let anyone down. Lucky that this late delivery happened. The editor she works for has agreed to give it to another copy-editor if it turns up this week.’

  ‘She daren’t lose her contacts, I can see that,’ agreed Hannah. ‘She’ll need her work. But can she live on it?’

  Jack shook his head. ‘I’ve no idea. Roger pays her interest in her share of the house. That should help.’

  ‘Poor Lyddie. It’s so devastating to find out that someone you trust has been cheating. It destroys your self-confidence, apart from anything else. Did you suspect anything?’

  ‘Well, she seemed fine when we saw her at Ottercombe, didn’t she? In fact I thought she was on rather good form.’

  ‘Almost too good?’ suggested Hannah. ‘Rather over the top? And remember when she couldn’t come to stay – I wonder what that was about? It’s always easy to be wise after the event but Liam always struck me as being a bit of a handful.’

  ‘The trouble is that there is absolutely nothing that one can do to help. Nothing can take away the pain or the reality of it. Why is loving people so damned agonizing?’

  She smiled at him. ‘I had no idea when I married you that you were such a complete mother hen. I should have guessed when I saw all those little boys trailing after you, “Sir, I’ve lost this . . .” or, “Sir, I’ve done that . . .”, and you behaving like a dear old nannie.’

  ‘I am nothing like a dear old nannie,’ he answered indignantly. ‘I’m an absolute brute to the little monsters. Good grief! They’re terrified of me.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ she agreed mockingly. ‘Scared to death. Like Hobbes the other evening, for instance? Reading him a story at ten o’clock at night?’

  ‘He misses his mum,’ said Jack defensively, ‘and I didn’t want him to wake the others . . .’ – Hannah snorted disbelievingly – ‘and he’d had a rotten day.’

  ‘You’re a big softie and they all know it,’ she said, grinning at him. ‘Marshmallow right down to the centre. Flora had you sussed when she was three days old.’

  He grinned too. ‘Our daughter has an unerring instinct for a weak spot,’ he agreed. ‘Attila the Hun could take her correspondence course.’ A pause. ‘Will your mother cope OK?’

  ‘Oh, now don’t start fussing about that,’ cried Hannah, exasperated. ‘She manages them brilliantly and they love being with her. You know they do.’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ he admitted.

  ‘Well then. I’ll give her a buzz and, if it’s OK, I’ll take them over when I pick Tobes up from playschool. I think it would give Lyddie a freer rein to talk things over if we’re on our own. There’s nothing worse
than being interrupted every five minutes when you’re feeling like that. The best thing we can do for Lyddie is to concentrate on her. That’s quite impossible with Flora in the house.’

  ‘You’re absolutely right,’ he said. ‘I’m going to watch the news and I’ll make you a cuppa when you’ve finished talking to your mum.’

  ‘That sounds great,’ she said. She paused at the door, looking at him affectionately. ‘Did I ever tell you that I have a thing about mother hens?’

  ‘It’s too late for soft soap,’ he answered with great dignity. ‘My feathers are already ruffled.’ He flexed his shoulders, as if puffing himself up, and clucked several times like a meditative hen. ‘Haven’t you noticed?’

  ‘Looks great,’ she said admiringly. ‘I’ll be back later to check out your quills.’

  She disappeared and Jack sighed heavily, as if shocked, reaching for the remote control. ‘And people ask where Flora gets it from,’ he murmured to Caligula. ‘Well, we all know who rules the roost in this house,’ and he switched on the television, swung his feet up on the sofa and closed his eyes.

  At Ottercombe, Mina was preparing for bed. Lyddie had telephoned to tell them that Liam didn’t want a reconciliation, except under the terms of complete surrender on her part, and so, she’d said, she had no course but to leave Truro and to ask if she could stay with them until she could decide what she should do next. Saddened though they were by the news, Mina and Nest had been deeply relieved that Lyddie wanted to come back to them. It showed, as nothing else could, that she’d accepted her past even if she had not yet had time to assimilate it thoroughly. She was going to see Jack and Hannah first, just for a few days, she’d said; a plan that her aunts had encouraged. They had absolute faith in her cousin and his wife, knowing that they would allow her to talk and sustain her.

  ‘Roger simply must get his act together with his mortgage,’ Nest had said. ‘Thank goodness that the big loan Henrietta took out for her boutique was paid off by the insurance. It was so foolish of Connor to go along with that business.’

  ‘Henrietta wouldn’t give in,’ Mina remembered. ‘She was absolutely set on it. Even to the point of sacrificing Lyddie on its altar.’

  Nest had looked at her, suddenly alert. ‘Did you tell her about the accident?’

  ‘I told her,’ answered Mina carefully, ‘that you’d all been heatedly discussing the question of whether she should work at the boutique and that you’d always feared that it was because of the high feelings that Henrietta wasn’t concentrating.’

  ‘But that’s not all of the truth,’ Nest had said sharply.

  ‘Maybe not,’ Mina had felt it necessary to be firm, ‘but that’s all you can tell her. The cause of the accident is between Connor and Henrietta and you. Not Lyddie. It would be quite wrong to involve her in it. She cannot forgive you on their behalf, she can only be dragged down by it. To tell the whole truth, in my opinion, would be self-indulgent.’

  Nest had stared at her, almost shocked. ‘Self-indulgent?’

  ‘Yes,’ she’d cried. ‘Can’t you see that? It can do no good except to relieve your feelings. She’ll feel obliged to absolve you and she will simply be left with the burden of the knowledge and all the horror to live through again. It would be cruel. You must continue to live with this part of the story, Nest. If Lyddie is ready to accept all the rest of it, and to move forward, then you must forgive yourself at last and go with her. It’s over.’

  She’d seen Nest swallow, her hands tighten on the arms of her chair, and, feeling a brute, she’d left her.

  Now, as she brushed her soft white hair, a little ‘po-po-po’ escaping her lips, she wondered if she’d been right. At her feet, Nogood Boyo quartered the carpet, looking for his toy, whilst Captain Cat watched him alertly from his basket. Earlier, overcome with irritation, he’d sneaked the toy away, hiding it behind the curtain, and now he peered, ears cocked, as his single-minded offspring searched determinedly. Beneath her stool Mina felt his excited breath on her ankles and bent to look at him.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she asked. ‘Silly Boyo. What are you looking for?’

  Fearing possible collusion, Captain Cat tensed on his bed but his mistress was too preoccupied to guess what Nogood Boyo was after and left them to it whilst she went into the alcove. She clicked and scrolled, intent upon the screen, and finally opened Elyot’s e-mail.

  From: Elyot

  To: Mina

  A good day. William is home! Oh, the relief and joy of having him safely with us. Lavinia has reacted so positively. She recognized him at once and, although she was confused as to where he’d been, she was fairly lucid. She seems to have completely forgotten about Marianne, his ex-wife – which under the circumstances is just as well – but his unexpected appearance is doing Lavinia so much good. I’d been afraid to forewarn her in case something should go wrong but now I believe it was probably the right thing to do. The happy shock seemed to trigger something in her brain so that she is – I nearly said ‘quite her old self’, which is far from true, but she is so bright that it does my heart good. I’d almost forgotten her smile. She has a quiet brooding look these days, and smiles rarely.

  Sadly, it was all too soon before the question of our GP was brought up. I’d warned William about it and he is sympathetically non-committal, which is the best line to take. How right you were about that! Nevertheless it cast a tiny shadow over our happy reunion. William looks well and has leave until after Christmas when he takes up a posting with the Ministry of Defence. It will be good to have him back in the country for a while and, although I don’t intend for us to be a burden to him, I know I shall be able to rely on him for support and – oh! so important – to make me laugh. Like you, my dear old friend, he has that blessed, happy ability to raise the spirits.

  Enough of us. How are things at Ottercombe? Such good news that the skeleton is out of the cupboard. You have been very discreet, and rightly so, but I have guessed that it was a fairly large cadaver from the depth of your anxiety and, now, by the measure of your relief. Don’t imagine for a moment that having William with us makes me any less anxious to hear from you as usual.

  Elyot

  Mina sat for some moments, considering. It was good to think of him enjoying the company of his son and heartened by Lavinia’s new-found brightness; it would be selfish to tell him about Lyddie’s predicament quite so quickly. Yet she found herself longing to tell him, rather shocked by her need, realizing how much she’d come to rely upon him. She typed quickly lest she should weaken.

  From: Mina

  To: Elyot

  All is well here and you are right to suggest that my relief is enormous. Nest looks better than I have seen her for a very long time. A degree of peacefulness possesses her at last – and not before time. Georgie has had one of her quiet days, rather as if she is puzzled by something that she can hear but we can’t. No dramas at least!

  I am so pleased to hear how happy William’s arrival is making you. You deserve a break, dear Elyot, and it is lovely to think of you all together. What a treat to have him home for Christmas, not only because he is your son and he has been away for a long time, but because it will ease some of the load from your shoulders.

  Enjoy this time together. We’ll talk again tomorrow. Goodnight.

  Mina closed down the computer, took off her long fleecy robe and climbed into bed. She switched off the bedside lamp and lay staring into the darkness.

  ‘Everyone has a right to their own history.’

  After a while she reached for Lydia’s rosary and began to pass the smooth, cool beads through her fingers but still she found it impossible to sleep.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Nest too was lying awake, thinking very carefully about the things Mina had said earlier. She had been right to explain the accident in those terms to Lyddie; right in saying that she, Nest, must live with the truth without the luxury of Lyddie’s forgiveness. Lyddie could not absolve her of her guilt and it would be cru
el to put such a burden of knowledge upon her. It was bad enough for her to know that she had been the topic of conversation, that it was anxiety about her future that might have been a factor in Henrietta’s momentary loss of concentration.

  Nest shut her eyes against the picture of Connor’s profile, his head turned towards her. They’d been returning late from the house of a mutual friend where some celebration or other had been taking place, Henrietta driving. Nest had only agreed to go, staying overnight with Connor and Henrietta, simply because Connor had asked her to plead Lyddie’s case with Henrietta. For the first time in more than twenty years he had invoked her support, visiting her at the school in Surrey, asking her to persuade Henrietta out of her scheme.

  ‘Lyddie would be wasted,’ he cries. ‘She’s done well at university and now she’s been offered a job with a major publishing house. She’s over the moon about it. The real problem is that Henrietta’s worried about the repayment of the loan and feels that Lyddie should be prevailed upon to help us out. There’s all this talk about loyalty and family ties and so on. Henrietta has this mad idea that Lyddie won’t need much in the way of wages as she’ll be able to live at home and so she’ll save on having to pay her full-time assistant. What future is that for Lyddie, I ask you? And she thinks having her in the shop will bring in young people and give it a shot in the arm. She can’t understand why Lyddie isn’t thrilled to bits at the thought of it. Why was I so crazy as to have gone along with the idea of a boutique in the first place? I won’t have her sacrificing Lyddie’s future . . .’

  She watches him sympathetically, agreeing wholeheartedly that Lyddie should not miss her chance in London, but wondering how it is that the birth of their daughter so effectively killed all her passion for him; as if a sword had fallen, slicing the ties that once bound her to him.

  How hard, how very hard it is, to give up her child, and yet, when she finally agrees to ‘the terms and conditions’ as she bitterly refers to them, that period at Ottercombe is among the happiest of her life. She feels so fit, so well, ‘although,’ she tells Mina, after her return from the doctor’s surgery, ‘I’d have you know that I am an elderly primate.’