‘Well, it’s a pity you didn’t think of all that when you got yourself pregnant. If you wanted a career - and I’ve never criticised you for that - why were you so careless?’
‘You didn’t say what it was really like.’
‘I’ve always tried to prepare you.’
‘Of course. The perfect mother. You gave me lectures. You told me about sex as if it was some sacrifice you had to make in order to have babies.’ Janet flushed and looked down at her feet. ‘You didn’t tell me it was fun,’ Caroline went on. ‘I didn’t go out looking for sex. I didn’t go prepared. I just went for a meal with a nice guy. I enjoyed talking to him and he was good looking. We had wine and I wanted to stay in his company. When we went back to his flat, I thought I could handle it. I didn’t know I’d be overwhelmed. You never told me what it was like.’
‘Some things are difficult to talk about to your children,’ said Janet, twisting the frill of a cushion nervously around her fingers.
‘Well, you should have tried harder,’ said Caroline. ‘Don’t you think so, Julie?’
Julie hesitated. She was fond of them both. In her own view, she was the last person to make judgements, yet here they both were waiting for her words as if for the wisdom of Solomon.
‘I think you’re talking a lot of nonsense, Caroline. You’re an eighteen year old adult. You’ve chosen to leave home and take on a responsible job. You’ve made a mistake and now you’re running back to Mummy so she can be the scapegoat. You learn from your friends, Caroline. That’s the way it is and that’s the way it’s always been. I can’t remember my mum giving me a lecture on the joys of sex.’
Frank gave a bitter laugh at this particular image.
Julie carried on, surer now of her ground. Being a modern woman was one thing. Passing the buck was another.
‘As you said, you thought you could handle the situation and you couldn’t. It happens. You were just unlucky that you got pregnant. The question is not who’s to blame, but how you are going to deal with it.’
She paused, feeling satisfaction at seeing some relief on Janet’s face.
‘I’ve told you what I’m going to do,’ Caroline replied, her expression that of a sulky five-year-old.
‘Caroline, what is it that worries you most - having it or looking after it?’ Janet asked slowly.
‘I told you, I don’t want to hurt it. I just don’t want to look after it,’ replied Caroline, her lips trembling.
‘Why don’t you have it adopted or fostered?’ asked Julie.
‘Mum wouldn’t let me, would you?’ replied Caroline and indeed her mother was shaking her head, saying, ‘No, no.’
Then Janet added, surprisingly calmly, ‘Of course, the answer’s staring us in the face.’
‘Is it?’
‘It’s sticking out a mile. I’ll look after the baby. You know I’m good with children. I was saying to you this morning, Julie, I’d do it all over again, wasn’t I?’
‘Yes, you were,’ said Julie, slowly digesting this. ‘But...’
‘Well, there you are then. I’ll be the childminder.’
‘Now hold on,’ Frank started, but Caroline did not let him finish.
‘How could I live with that? You’d always be pushing it down my throat. Doing your martyr bit. Like you’ve done all my life.’
‘You’ve got your mother all wrong,’ said Julie angrily.
‘Yes, you’re right, Julie. Of course, I should have realised. It’s a damned easy way to get another lovely baby, isn’t it, without all the nasty messy palaver beforehand.’
Frank, whose face was showing increasing anger at the female exchanges, now rounded on his daughter, gripping her shoulders hard. ‘Caroline, I won’t have you speaking to your mother like that.’
For a moment it looked as if he was going to shake her. Then he put his hands back down to his sides and with controlled fury, he continued. ‘You’re talking to your mother as if she’s the one who’s in trouble. If you can’t treat her civilly, then get out now!’
Caroline’s face flamed at this unusually angry reaction from her father.
‘All right. I’ll go.’ she said, her voice shaking.
Janet jumped up and put a protective arm round her. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Frank. She always does hit out when she’s upset. You don’t think I’m going to take any notice of all that nonsense.’ Turning to Caroline, her voice softened, ‘We only want what’s best, love. Best for you and the baby. It’s not selfishness, I promise you. Don’t take a step you’ll regret all your life.’
Caroline’s lips trembled and tears started running down her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry, Mum. I shouldn’t have said those things.’
Janet, her face wet with tears in a mirror image of her daughter’s, put both arms round her and hugged her.
‘So that’s decided then.’
‘If you really think it would work out, I don’t really want to have an abortion. I’m scared.’ The defiance melted away and Caroline reverted to being a schoolgirl, crying on her mother’s shoulder.
Frank sat down on the settee, his face quite grey at the unpleasantness of the earlier confrontation. Gradually recovering his composure, he said, ‘Janet, Caroline - if there’s any chance of this working, there’s got to be some ground rules - I’m not prepared to keep lying. So there’ll be no flannel about who the mother is. And what’s more, Caroline, if you hold on to your job, you can pay for the baby’s upkeep.’
The telephone rang, cutting into the lecture, which no-one was really taking in. Julie, only too happy to escape for a moment, answered it.
‘It’s Linda - wants to make sure you’re coming.’
‘Oh, Barry and Linda. I can’t face it.’ Janet said tearfully, still with an arm round her daughter. ‘Barry is the last person I need right now.’
‘Tell Linda we’ll be there in an hour,’ Frank interrupted. ‘We’ve got to tell them,’ he told Janet. ‘Let’s get it over and done with as soon as possible.’
Julie relayed the message and replaced the telephone. Frank turned to her. ‘Julie, the kids will be home after tea at their friends’ house. Could you drop Caroline back at the station, if she decides to go back to town, tonight?’ Julie meekly nodded agreement, unused to this authoritative side of her brother. ‘You will be all right, won’t you, Caroline?’
She nodded. ‘It’ll be good to talk to Julie.’
‘Right. And, Caroline, make sure you report to the doctor, and come back next weekend and let us know how you get on?’ He turned to Janet. ‘I know you’re not looking forward to this, love, but we can put up with Barry’s snide comments. Linda’s looking forward to seeing you. Why don’t you put some makeup on and then we’ll go.’
Janet blew her nose and obediently disappeared from the room.
Her resilient good humour had stood her in good stead. When she returned soon after, ready to go, she looked almost her old self. Julie followed her and Frank to the front door, and waited, feeling as if she were the hostess watching her guests depart.
‘It’s been a nightmare - this last week.’ Janet said. ‘Now I think it’s going to be all right. It’s been good to talk to you, Julie, and thank you for everything you’ve said, today.’
She paused at the door.
‘Oh, I haven’t got any chocs or anything!’
‘This’ll be fine,’ said Frank, returning to grab Julie’s bottle of wine from the hall table.
‘Love to Linda,’ Julie called after them.
‘She just bounces back, doesn’t she,’ marvelled Caroline. ‘Chocolates! Wine! The vital issues of the day. Am I going to turn out like that?’
Julie raised one eyebrow in a silent, sceptical response, and turning to the girl, added in a stern voice, ‘Let’s go and sit down. I’ve got a few things to say to you!’
Chapter 3: Macho Man
(Monday evening)
The invitation from Barry and Linda was not for a full scale evening meal.
‘Come over and have drinks and a snack
with us.’ Linda had said. ‘I’d love a bit of a chat.’ That had been three or four weeks ago before their own crisis had blown up, and Janet now remembered the note of urgency in Linda’s voice when she had invited them.
The Ford Escort drew up outside the small semi-detached house, the sunshine gleaming on the leadlight windows. Busy lizzies were spilling out of hanging baskets at the front door.
‘Well, here we go,’ said Frank. The revelation of their daughter’s predicament was not going to be pleasant.
‘I hope Barry’s not in one of his moods,’ said Janet.
She got out of the car, straightening her pleated skirt. Frank put an arm round her shoulder, and together they walked up the path.
Linda came to the doorway. ‘Hallo, you two. I began to think you weren’t coming.’ Despite this statement, she didn’t appear to be completely ready. Her face, fringed by a smooth, brown bob, was pink and she hadn’t yet removed her PVC apron. Janet thought that though Linda was in her late twenties, she always looked like a young girl, playing at being a hostess, and trying hard to do the correct things.
‘Yes, sorry we’re late,’ she said. She hugged her sister-in-law, and followed her into the house. In the living room, Linda had laid out a buffet supper and Barry was sitting with his feet on a coffee table, a glass in hand. He got up to greet the family with some reluctance, as if he was engaged in matters of importance. Janet suppressed her irritation.
Frank proffered the bottle of wine to his brother, and once again, Janet found herself seething at her brother-in-law’s ungracious retort.
‘Thanks, I’ve got a beer here. I’m sure Linda will find a use for it in a stew or something.’
Linda blushed and seized the wine saying, ‘That looks lovely, Frank. Do you want me to open it? I’ve already got some white wine - Liebfraumilch - chilled.’
Poor Linda, Janet thought; she was always being embarrassed by Barry’s rudeness.
‘I’ll join Barry in a beer, thanks Lindy - I expect Janet would like the white wine, wouldn’t you, love,’ said Frank. Janet smiled at him. Always trying to be diplomatic. How could Barry have turned out so different?
‘I’d love a glass of white,’ she said. ‘And after the day we’ve had, a glass of wine is just what I need.’ She sat down in an armchair. ‘I’ll tell you all about it in a minute. That’s what made us a bit late.’
Linda placed the red wine on the sideboard and disappeared into the kitchen. She returned without her apron, clutching a bottle of Liebfraumilch. She poured out wine for two, her eyes on Janet’s face. ‘What’s happened?’
‘We’ve had a few problems - as a matter of fact, we almost didn’t come - firstly, Julie’s staying with us for a few days - she’s had a tiff with her boyfriend.’
She took a sip from her glass.
‘Oh well, that’s par for the course - I’ve lost count of Julie’s boyfriends,’ said Barry, adding with a sneer, ‘I’m surprised she can even recognise their faces. I should think they work on a ‘hot bed’ system.’
He’s worse than ever, Janet thought. Frank turned away in angry disgust and it was left to her to reply. Though she lacked confidence in some situations, she was not intimidated by Barry, whereas her sister-in-law seemed to shrink into herself in the face of his bullying.
‘You’re quite wrong, Barry,’ she said. ‘It’s true that Julie’s had a lot of boyfriends - she just hasn’t found the right man yet. That doesn’t make her promiscuous.’
But Barry would not be deflected, ‘If you want my opinion, she’s damn lucky not to have ended up with a bun in the oven, by now.’
Janet got up. This was not the moment to impart their news. In any case, first she wanted to catch Linda on her own; she knew that Linda had some problem she was desperate to tell her. ‘Can I help you with the food?’ she asked Linda.
Linda looked relieved. ‘There are a few more things to bring in.’
‘I thought you’d done everything,’ exclaimed Barry. ‘Goodness, you’ve spent enough time in the kitchen. No wonder you women can’t handle more than one job at a time. Industry would fold up if it was all left to you girls, eh, Frank?’
Why on earth didn’t Linda stand up for herself, Janet thought. She always seemed vulnerable, but today, all the spirit seemed to have been knocked out of her. It was left to Janet to defend her. ‘But Linda does have a job, Barry, doesn’t she?’
‘Well, that’s exactly my point - then she comes home and complains she can’t manage to produce a reasonable meal in the evening. I mean look at this stuff - Quiche Lorraine - sounds posh, but it’s just a cheese and bacon flan. And a bit of rabbit food. What sort of food is that for company?’
Frank started to speak. Janet knew how he hated to see Barry picking on Linda, and now he could only divert his brother from his unpleasantness by introducing their own bombshell.
‘Forget the food, you two. Janet and I have something to tell you. It’s going to come as a bit of a shock to you both.’
He paused a little, to let the words sink in. In that brief moment, Barry intervened.
‘My God, you’re not divorcing, are you?’
For a moment they almost laughed.
‘No, of course not.’
‘Well, what is it then?’
‘It’s about Caroline. And it’s serious.’
Linda, her face concerned, said, ‘She’s not ill, Frank, is she?’
‘No, not ill, Linda. But unfortunately, she’s got herself pregnant.’
At Frank’s abrupt statement, Linda gripped the arms of the chair in which she sat, so that her knuckles gleamed white. Then the hands relaxed, but still her face had lost all its colour.
‘The stupid little fool,’ exclaimed Barry. ‘How far is she? Can she still get rid of it?’
An involuntary sob made them all turn to Linda. Barry’s words had affected her more than Janet would have expected. As they stared at her, she jumped up, her hand to her face, and ran from the room. Janet raised her eyebrows to her husband and hurried after her sister-in-law. She found Linda in the kitchen, tears running down her face. Janet put her arms round her.
‘It’s just not fair,’ Linda blurted out between sobs. ‘We’ve been trying for five years. How can he talk so easily of getting rid of it? Why does it always happen to girls who don’t want them? I’d give anything for a baby now, so why did it happen when I didn’t want one... ?’ her voice tailed off.
Janet stared at her.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ve never told you. I did get pregnant …’
‘What, before you knew Barry?’
‘No, it was Barry’s.’
‘You were pregnant before you and Barry got married?’
Linda bit her lips and nodded silently.
‘Why didn’t you tell me? Maybe I could have helped.’
‘I didn’t want to tell anyone. I don’t know why I’m talking about it now. Except that it’s been on my mind so much recently. I’ve been quite desperate.’
She took a pair of oven gloves from a drawer and turned again to Janet. ‘You can’t imagine what it’s like. I have to avoid mothers with babies and pregnant women. I just can’t bear to talk to them.’
Her lips trembled as she spoke. ‘And every time we meet new people, it’s always “Have you got any children?” That’s the first thing they ask. And when you say “No,” they look at you as if there’s something wrong with you. Well, there is. But not what they think.’
Pulling on the gloves, she drew a tray of vol-au-vents from the oven, and placed them on the Formica top. ‘They say things like, “Plenty of time to get in all the gadgets when you’ve got your family.” They sort of imply that we’re being selfish. Just because I like to keep the house nice. But how can I tell them? I’m not just going to come out with it whenever I meet someone. I’m not going to walk up to them and say, “We’re failures, Barry and me. We can’t have children.”’
Janet started to speak, but stopped as Linda carr
ied on.
‘I wanted to talk to you about it. But you’ve got your nice family. You just wouldn’t know how it feels. Sometimes I feel as if I’m part of another race.’
‘I always thought you wanted children. I just didn’t like to ask.’
Tears trickled down Linda’s face, and she blew her nose into a square of kitchen roll.
Janet walked into the living room, collected the Liebfraumilch and poured them both another drink. The men were absorbed in the television and ignored her. Returning to the kitchen with full glasses, she said, ‘They’ve got the cricket on. There’s no rush.’
Linda sniffed and took a sip. ‘I suppose we should toast the baby,’ she said, and clinked her glass against Janet’s. ‘To Caroline’s baby.’ Another tear ran down her cheek.
Janet mumbled the words, which seemed quite inappropriate at that moment. She went on, ‘If you don’t mind my asking, what happened to the baby you were expecting? What went wrong?’
‘I didn’t have an abortion, if that’s what you’re thinking. I wanted the baby, and I wanted to marry Barry. I loved him. I still do.’
Goodness knows why, Janet thought, managing not to voice the words.
Linda took some plates from the cupboard and cleared a space for them. ‘Barry was quite chuffed at the idea that I was pregnant. He kept saying there must be quite a few little Stantons dotted around the Home Counties. I didn’t think that was very funny.’
‘I should think not,’ said Janet. What a pig he is, she thought.
‘I knew my family would be upset; my Dad thought Barry was too old for me and he never really liked him.’ She swallowed some more wine. ‘But I was quite sure. We arranged everything very quickly - do you remember?’
Janet nodded without interrupting.
‘We said we wanted a small quiet wedding. It was quite nice really. If only I hadn’t felt so guilty about wearing a white dress.’
‘You looked lovely.’
‘We’d only been married for a month when I miscarried. I never even knew if it was a boy or a girl.’ She wiped her eyes. ‘It would have been seven by now. At school and everything.’
Janet said nothing, fighting to hold back her own tears, and concentrated on arranging the hot vol-au-vents on one of the plates.
A Bottle of Plonk Page 3
