‘Yes, of course. I do admire your directness. You young people are so sensible and pragmatic nowadays. One hardly ever hears those old fashioned expressions like “living in sin”,’ Violet Webb murmured.
Not receiving any response, she added, ‘One took it all so seriously in my day. So much better now, not to enter into any permanent commitments and to be able to end relationships, when they’ve served their purpose.’
Her eyes rested on Julie for a second or so too long, and Julie, astute enough to recognise all those little glances and pointed comments, aimed like tiny poison darts, got out of the firing range.
‘I’ll make some coffee,’ she said.
‘What a helpful girl,’ said Violet, her voice just that little louder, now that it had to reach into the kitchen. ‘And what a lovely figure she has - I can see why you find her attractive.’
Julie returned with coffee, placing the cup on a small table at Violet’s side. The older woman took one or two sips.
‘Is it decaffeinated, my dear? I’m afraid that ordinary coffee makes my heart race.’
Julie put her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t think.’
‘Well never mind, you weren’t to know. I won’t finish it, if you don’t mind. Richard, I’m exhausted. The train journey has quite sapped my energy. If it’s inconvenient, I’ll gladly borrow your studio couch tonight, and until I get myself organised. I’m sure it will only be for a week or two.’
The little serene smile remained; the innocent eyes did not change expression, despite the perceptible stiffening of both the other occupants of the room.
‘You can’t possibly sleep on the couch, mother. You’ll obviously have to sleep in my room,’ said Richard, dutifully, his brow furrowed. Julie waited for him to include her in the arrangements, but he said nothing more, obviously daunted by his mother’s presence, and finally, Julie got up, fighting back tears.
‘There’s really only one solution, Richard. I’ll go back to Sally and Sue and stay there. You can give me a ring when you’ve got it sorted.’
Richard, looking impotent, could suggest no way to avert what Julie suggested.
‘But what if no-one’s up? I’ll come with you and make sure you get in. Or perhaps it would be better if I slept on the floor here and you slept on the couch,’ he floundered.
‘I won’t be locked out. They’re having a party. You know they always have people over at the weekend. In fact, it’ll probably be fun. I’ll take them that bottle of wine as a peace offering.’
She saw the hurt expression on Richard’s face as she mentioned the wine that was part of their special celebration. She had meant to wound him and she had succeeded.
‘Anyway, you couldn’t possibly come with me.’ she continued, formally polite, as if she were addressing a stranger. ‘You must sort out clean sheets and things for your mother! I’ll give you a ring in a few days and see what you’ve arranged.’
She had not even unpacked her small suitcase, and she picked it up now, collected the wine and headed for the front door, forcing her lips into a twisted smile. He followed her out.
‘I’m going to get really drunk now,’ she said, kissing him lightly on the lips. The brief kiss, which threatened to last longer than either intended was arrested suddenly by a crash and a feeble shriek from Violet Webb.
‘Oh dear, I’ve knocked the coffee over. Don’t worry, I’ll be all right.’
Richard turned his head abruptly and released his hold on Julie, ‘Have you scalded yourself, mother?’
Julie’s mouth tightened into a hard line of resignation.
‘Go and make sure she’s all right. I’ll see you soon. Love you.’ But the last whispered comment wasn’t heard by Richard as he ran to assist his mother, who had knocked coffee over her dress and the floor - perhaps in an effort to get up - or perhaps not. The coffee was barely warm now and Violet was certainly not scalded. But even as Richard noticed that, he heard the front door slam.
Julie drove the little Fiat confidently through the London streets. She passed by Sally and Sue’s flat and saw the brightly lit rooms, but despite what she had said, she was in no state for a party. She could have climbed the stairs straight to her room and ignored everyone, for she still had a key. But she drove on past the flat, out of central London. Perhaps a little bit of family atmosphere was what she needed.
The sign said three miles to Wimbledon and she continued along, not really needing to think about the journey. She had been looking forward to the week ahead - possibly the life ahead, shared with Richard. But perhaps she didn’t really know him after all. Perhaps he wasn’t the man for her. It was better to find out now. Tears were pricking at her eyelids and she was glad she was going to be amongst people who would make a fuss of her. Her own parents were too far away, but her brother, Frank, and his wife Janet would look after her.
She drew up outside a large comfortable looking house and peered at her watch. It was just before midnight, but the hall light was on. She went up to the front door and rang the bell.
Chapter 2: The Generation Game
(Sunday night and Bank Holiday Monday)
Frank Stanton came to the door in his dressing gown. Julie was used to his normal expression of tired resignation coupled with good humour, as he dealt with a range of family problems. Tonight though, he appeared unusually worried, and it seemed to Julie, as she stood in the shadowy doorway, clutching her bottle of wine in one hand and her suitcase in the other, that it was unconnected to her late appearance on the scene.
‘Julie!’ he exclaimed, and a smile lit up his face, taking away the middle-aged look that had developed.
Julie was suddenly very glad to see him. She enveloped him in a big hug, dropping her small suitcase, but retaining the wine.
Looking a little overwhelmed by her exuberance, Frank eventually disentangled himself and took her case from the floor.
‘I’ve come to be a nuisance,’ she said, her voice taking on little sister mode.
‘So you’re here to stay, are you?’ he said. ‘Claridges not good enough for you?’ He sounded unsurprised, but resigned, Julie thought, but she knew with Frank she could get away with anything. ‘And this bottle of wine’s your peace offering, I assume? Thanks a lot, love, but next time, give us a half hour’s warning.’ He rested the bottle of wine on the hall table, next to the telephone. ‘Actually, Janet and I were just having some cocoa. Let’s get inside - you must be freezing in that - er - outfit.’
Julie walked past her reflection in the oval mirror and the light in the hallway showed up the bruised cheek and the rip in the caftan for the first time.
‘Whatever’s happened to you, Julie?’ Frank exclaimed. ‘Has someone attacked you?’
‘I fell off a ladder, doing some DIY,’ Julie replied, following him into the large kitchen. Janet was sitting at the kitchen table in a faded blue dressing gown, obviously concerned as to the identity of the midnight caller. Julie delivered more kisses and greetings. Janet’s face, having registered relief at the familiar face, now gasped at Julie’s unkempt appearance.
‘What have you done to yourself, Julie? You look as if you’ve been in a battle. And it’s so late.’
‘It’s not that boyfriend, is it?’ growled Frank. ‘I didn’t think he was an aggressive character.’
‘You needn’t worry. That’s not one of Richard’s faults,’ Julie said with a watery smile, sitting herself down at the kitchen table. She looked from one to the other. ‘But I have got a problem, and I’d really appreciate it if I could stay for a couple of days, if you don’t mind.’
‘I’ll make you some cocoa,’ Janet said.
She took a mug from the Welsh dresser and, as if on auto-pilot, prepared the drink for Julie. Julie always thought that, with her curly brown hair, Janet looked young to have a daughter of eighteen, but she noticed now that fine lines were showing at the sides of Janet’s eyes, and there was a weariness about her posture. It was obvious that something was on her
mind.
Julie tried to lighten the atmosphere.
‘Look, I’m sorry about this, but Richard’s been invaded by his old bat of a mother. So I’m homeless and in need of some TLC.’
‘I’m not sure I’m much use at that,’ Janet said through tight lips.
Julie’s smile faded. It was not the sort of response she would have expected from Janet.
‘I don’t want you to go to any trouble. The settee will do - or the floor.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Janet said stirring the cocoa and passing it to Julie. Her lips trembled slightly. ‘I’m just not sure I’m a marvellous mother.’
She sat down, covering her face with her hands and started to weep silently.
‘Oh Janet. What’s happened?’ Julie said startled. ‘You’re a wonderful person - and a wonderful mother. What’s happened to upset you?’
‘It’s Caroline,’ Frank said. His face, which was already showing dark stubble, distorted into a grimace, as he spoke of his daughter.
‘Why don’t you sit down Julie, and we’ll tell you. We’ve been talking it through tonight - that’s why we’re still up. She rang last weekend and told us she was pregnant. Some chap she met at work. But the relationship’s broken up - she’s talking about an abortion. You can imagine how we feel.’
‘It’s like a nightmare, Julie,’ sobbed Janet. ‘I wake up each morning and hope for a minute that I’ve dreamed it. Why didn’t she take precautions? I know things have changed over the years. But she’s so young. I don’t know which is worse - the idea of her ruining her life, saddling herself with a child at her age - or the thought of the abortion - my first grandchild.’
Julie started to speak, but Frank shook his head. He put his arm round his wife and led her up the stairs. Then he returned a few minutes later.
‘Julie. No more tonight. Janet’s had enough. She says the spare room bed’s made up, and would you mind looking after yourself, just for now.’
Julie nodded. She didn’t know what to say. All the well-aired comments about a woman’s right to choose seemed inappropriate in this situation. So she said nothing - just hugged her brother with all the affection she felt for him. Then she finished her drink on her own, and went to bed.
* * *
When Julie came down in the morning, Janet was dressed. She was wearing a navy blue T-shirt and check trousers, and she looked cool and composed. When the two younger children had disappeared outside, Julie felt able to resume the conversation of the previous night, and the two women sat with their coffee at the stripped pine kitchen table.
‘I’m really sorry about everything, Janet,’ Julie said. ‘Here’s me - getting upset about my trivial little problem and you’ve got a real tragedy on your hands. I know how dreadful you must feel.’
‘You don’t know,’ Janet said quietly. ‘I’ve had no career - not like you. I’ve put the family before everything - and I’d do it all again if I could. The family’s been my career. But now it seems I’ve failed at the only thing I’ve ever done.’
She ignored Julie’s attempt to interrupt. ‘The children are getting older; soon they won’t need me, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with my life. Frank says that it’s time I had my own interests. A few weeks ago, I went along to an agency for some work - before all this happened - and I was scared, really scared.’ She twisted her wedding ring on her finger.
‘What happened?’
‘It was just office work. They said they’d let me know. But they were so young. I felt completely out of touch - like an invader from Mars. I hoped desperately they’d say they didn’t want me. To think that she can even contemplate an abortion. There are so many women longing for children... How did things go so wrong?’
Julie got up and poured herself some more coffee.
‘What if she kept the baby?’ she asked.
‘I’d be very relieved. But it wouldn’t be easy. She lives in a flat with two other girls. She works a twelve hour day. How could she possibly manage? A child minder, I expect.’ Her face expressed her distaste. ‘I hate the thought of a child being passed around like a parcel.’
‘Do you think she’d come back home?’ Julie asked, knowing the answer already. Caroline was rather like her in personality.
‘She won’t give up her career for anything. Or her independence. She’s all self, that girl. And it’s my fault.’
Julie stood up and put an arm round her sister-in-law. ‘People aren’t putty. I see it with the kids at school. Even in families, they turn out differently. Look at Frank and Barry - they’re like chalk and cheese.’
‘Oh, goodness. Barry and Linda. I’d quite forgotten. We’re supposed to be going for a snack with them this evening. I haven’t organised a baby-sitter or anything. Not that the kids really need one. But this business with Caroline has put everything else out of my mind.’
‘I’ll stay with the kids,’ offered Julie. ‘As long as I’m here, I might as well be useful.’
‘Actually, Julie,’ said Janet with a trace of her normal good humour. ‘You know you’re always welcome. But just how long are you staying?’
‘If I could just crash down here for a few days - that would be wonderful. I’ve got a week’s holiday. That’s why I was moving in with Richard this weekend - until it all went pearshaped.’
Janet took a handkerchief from her pocket, and blew her nose hard. ‘We’ll make a nice lunch. Cheer us all up. You can give me a hand and you can tell me all about this silly squabble between you and Richard.’
Here in her own element, Janet was confident and efficient. She talked and worked at the same time. Together the sisters-in-law tidied the beds, peeled vegetables, prepared a roast and dessert, with Julie acting very much as a subordinate. Julie watched Janet as she took a tray of drinks outside, where Frank was washing the car, and the younger children, Katie and James, were roller-skating. It seemed an idyllic picture of family life. Julie had a mental picture of Richard in a similar domestic scene. She suddenly wanted very much to hear his voice. She called out of the window that she was going to use the phone.
‘Richard is out,’ came Violet Webb’s disembodied voice, entirely devoid of regret, ‘Can I give him a message?’
Julie reeled off her telephone number and stressed that she was not after all staying with her ex-flatmates. But she could almost imagine Mrs Webb reducing her telephone number to confetti. She could hardly hide her disappointment at not being able to speak to Richard.
‘No luck?’ queried Janet, returning to the kitchen.
‘No, it was the Wicked Witch of the West. I bet she doesn’t give him the number.’
As if in response, the telephone rang.
‘Perhaps that’s him,’ said Janet, ‘You go and answer it.’
Julie felt that little flutter of nervous apprehension which incorporated hope, delight and fear in equal parts, as she skipped to the phone, but once again a female voice sounded at the other end.
‘Auntie Julie, how are you?’
‘Great, Caroline! Cut the “Auntie” for heaven’s sake. How are you?’
She saw Janet’s face change, her lips tense, as she heard her daughter’s name.
At the other end of the phone, Caroline replied, ‘I’m OK. I’ve had a bit of a problem. But I’m getting it sorted out. Can I speak to Mum please?’
Sorted out, thought Julie. What did that mean? An abortion? She handed the phone to Janet, and went outside to Frank, waiting until Janet joined them.
‘She’s coming home, Frank,’ Janet said, turning to her husband. ‘She’ll be here this afternoon. She wants you to pick her up off the four thirty train.’
Frank put down his cloth, and placed his hands on Janet’s shoulders. ‘Don’t say anything to the kids. You said they were going out this afternoon, anyway.’
‘I hate keeping secrets from them.’
‘Time enough to tell them when a decision’s been made,’ Frank said, his voice grim. ‘And if there’s no baby, perhaps not
even then.’
After the ordeal of a lunch, during which Frank, Janet and Julie vied with each other in their efforts to be cheerful, Frank transported Katie and James to their friends, and later, he left once again to collect Caroline.
Janet and Julie waited, on tenterhooks, looking out of the sitting room window.
‘Shall I disappear?’ Julie asked, as Frank’s car turned into the drive.
‘No, please stay. She gets on so well with you.’
Frank was garaging the car as Caroline walked in. She looked young and vulnerable, in a baggy sweater and jeans, long, straight flaxen hair framing her small face. Close to tears, she hugged both her mother and Julie wordlessly. Nevertheless, her mouth looked set in a determined way and, when her father came in, she started talking straight away.
‘I’ve just come to tell you. I’ve made my decision. I’m not going to have my life mucked up by having a baby. I’ve decided to have an abortion.’
Janet turned away and closed her eyes in pain.
‘You’d better sit down and we’ll talk about this,’ Frank said, pacing backwards and forwards. ‘You haven’t told us anything about the man involved. Isn’t he prepared to help you?’
‘It was just a one night stand. I didn’t see him again. He was working in the Futures market.’
‘Fine future he’s given you,’ muttered Janet.
‘And how about afterwards?’ Frank said. ‘It’ll be too late to change your mind then.’
‘Look, this is the hardest decision I’ve ever made,’ Caroline said, her voice suddenly solemn. ‘I already feel pregnant.’ She got up again and turned to her mother. ‘I just can’t face the thought of being like you.’
‘What do you mean?’ Janet gasped.
‘Trapped here, fulfilling your martyrdom,’ Caroline snapped.
‘I’ve never given that impression,’ retorted Janet angrily. ‘I’ve always been very happy at home.’
‘Well, maybe you have, but I can tell you it’s never appealed to me for one second. Suburbia. Baking cakes. Hoovering. I couldn’t get away fast enough.’
A Bottle of Plonk Page 2
