Lorna couldn’t help but laugh. ‘It does sound so mad.’
‘Mad things often work because no one thinks they will,’ Gloria said. ‘Now be strong, think of the peace of mind we’re all going to have, with our children happy and relaxed. All come over here for Boxing Day, we’ll celebrate, or we could go down to Nathan’s.’
‘Let’s think on that,’ Lorna said, wondering if she could take it. She pictured Sonia interrogating her about Ravenscourt and Fergus, and Gloria all over Nathan. Besides, the three husbands might be invited too and there would be a scene and it would all be highly embarrassing, not to mention painful.
Lorna heard the front door slam and went wearily down to the living room to find Flora crying. ‘He’s such a bastard,’ she sobbed, describing her brother. ‘I don’t want to spend Christmas with him. He can go with Dad and I’ll go to Ben.’
Lorna sat down beside her and took her in her arms. She could lose both her children over this. ‘Surely Ben will be with his wife?’
‘If I asked him, he might stay with me. She’s got a huge family, she won’t be alone.’
‘It’s not right, darling,’ Lorna said gently, thinking of Tess and her plea to her to keep Flora away from Ben for Christmas so the two of them could be alone. Having met Tess it did not surprise her that her sparky, pretty daughter had seduced her husband, but it was not right that it had happened. But when Flora had come to terms with her father’s behaviour – they might even get on again sometime in the future – Lorna doubted she’d stay long with Ben. The best solution to this sorry mess would be if Tess forgave Ben and their marriage worked out and he kept in close contact with the child. He’d shown no sign of ducking out of his responsibility over that. Ben and Tess were far better suited to each other than Ben and Flora.
Flora stopped crying and said sadly, ‘It’s such a muddle, isn’t it Mum? Dad was a bit strange last Christmas but I never thought it would end like this.’
Lorna sighed, stroked Flora’s hair. ‘Nor me, darling, but look at Adrian and Ivan; they were such decent, good men before something, perhaps the problems of their age, seem to affect them at the same time.’ The two of them clung together, weeping over what they’d lost.
Later, Lorna said, ‘You ought to know that Tess, Ben’s wife, came here.’
‘Here, why?’ Flora was horrified. ‘She’s no right to, why did she come?’
‘Remember, Flora, she is his wife and she loves him. She wants to stay with him. She wants you to let him go. You can’t blame her. I tried to fight for your father, but he is so changed I know it won’t work between us any more. Besides, he doesn’t want me in this new life he’s chosen for himself.’ The reality of it wrenched her heart but she went on. ‘I think Ben still loves Tess in his way and I’m sorry to say this, but I think you’ll get bored of him in time.’
‘I won’t. And besides, we’re having this baby,’ Flora said defiantly.
‘But, darling, do you love him? Really, really love him?’ Lorna watched her carefully when she asked this, waiting for that special glow that thinking or speaking of a lover produced, but she didn’t see it in Flora’s face. You couldn’t help love, that all consuming passion, and though it was wrong to take someone else’s husband, love could be like an addiction, and loyalties and reality got trampled on in the rush for it.
‘Of course. It’s a sort of love,’ Flora said uncertainly. ‘We found each other when we were both sad.’
‘But that is not love, mind-blowing, deep, passionate love.’ Lorna had a sudden picture of her and Stephen; the overwhelming need they’d had to touch and speak to each other every minute of the day. She swallowed hard and continued her lecture. ‘It’s need, I think. Masses of people live together because they need each other and there’s nothing wrong in that, provided you don’t hurt anyone else.’
Flora looked as if she might cry again. ‘I do love him,’ she said intensely, as if to convince herself.
‘Like you loved Jamie?’
‘Oh, Jamie was just a mate. Good in bed, too, when he could be bothered.’
‘But that is still not love.’ Lorna wondered if Flora had ever fallen in love. Sex could be, often was, confused with love, especially with the young. She went on, ‘Tess really loves him; she needs him too. I think she loves and needs him more than you do. But then there is the baby; it needs a father as well as a mother. So that is an enormous complication.’
‘He’ll be there for it. We are going to live together.’ Flora sounded like a frightened little girl, determined not to have to confront the predicament she was in.
‘Tess longed for a baby, went through IVF and it didn’t work. She feels that the moods she suffered from the procedure – and it must be a horrendous ordeal – turned Ben away from her. Ben should have told her about the baby ages ago. How do you think she will feel when she finds out you are having his child, becoming pregnant through an act of carelessness?’ Lorna held Flora close. She wanted her to feel loved and yet she wanted her to face up to things.
Flora went quiet, then burst out, ‘I didn’t know I’d get pregnant! He told me he couldn’t have children and didn’t want any, so I let him make love even though we didn’t have any condoms that time.’
‘You just said Ben doesn’t want children?’ She pitied this poor baby coming into the world with a rather scatty mother and a disinterested father.
‘He does now.’ Flora said firmly.
‘He owes it to Tess to tell her; he should have done it ages ago. She came here to beg me to . . .’
‘You didn’t tell her about the baby?’ Flora exclaimed in horror.
‘No, but Gloria came by when she was here and before I let her in I warned her not to say anything and we’re afraid Tess overheard the word ‘baby’. But I think we managed to steer her away from the truth. She has got to be told this Christmas. Ben must tell her and you must leave them alone while they try and work something out between them.’
‘Perhaps I should have an abortion,’ Flora said grimly.
‘Oh, no, not that, anyway I think it’s too late.’ Lorna cried out involuntarily. Whatever mess they were in, the thought of the coming child had soothed her pain of losing Stephen. But standing aside from that, it was a new life, a new person, and a gift for them all which would surely bring its own love.
‘It seems the best solution, I have been thinking quite a bit about it,’ Flora said. ‘I’m worried that I won’t be able to keep up with my studies and I’ll fail my exams. I haven’t been able to work as hard as I’d like as I feel so rough all the time. Anyway I’ve years yet before it’s too late for me to have a child. I can always have one later.’
Lorna kept her mouth tightly buttoned although there was so much she wanted to say. She knew she was being a coward for not facing it, but she could not bear to talk of a termination. Instead, she began to discuss the Christmas menu, asking Flora’s advice as if she hadn’t mentioned the baby at all.
19
Getting The Husbands To Ravenscourt
‘I understand from Marcus, though he sounded quite vague on the subject, that you’ve an idea to go to Ravenscourt for Christmas?’ Stephen rang Lorna, his voice clipped and business-like, addressing her as if she were his travel agent instead of his once adored wife.
Her chest seemed to freeze up at the sound of his voice. ‘Y…yes, Gloria and Rosalind are keen for us all to go.’ She said. She wished Marcus hadn’t said anything, though perhaps Stephen had shocked him into mentioning it by asking their plans for the day. She had not yet spoken to Stephen about it, putting it off every day, not knowing what to say.
‘I could come down for the day … and perhaps a night, if everyone is going to be there,’ he said. She heard the doubt in his voice and she wished things were as they used to be. ‘I’ll bring some wine.’
It was distressing making plans as though they were still together, even worse that she was lying to him, though had he not lied to her, creeping off to that girl, hiding his in
fidelity from her? She had to go through with it if he was to be safely delivered to Ravenscourt. Caught up with the plan, she had forgotten his ritual of buying wine for Christmas, how he took such care to choose wines for each course. Last year there had been much discussion over a Californian desert wine made from black Muscat grapes to go with the Christmas pudding. Her heart ached; they would not be drinking together this year – or ever again.
‘There’s plenty there, Fergus left a good cellar,’ she told him. She hadn’t seen it but Clara had told her it was there.
‘It was very good of the old boy to leave you the house. I seem to remember it was quite large,’ he went on. ‘You won’t want to live in it, will you?’
‘I haven’t decided.’ It struck her that being at Ravenscourt over Christmas might give Stephen time to make plans for it; plans he might plague her with, plans she didn’t want. He’d loved doing up their first house together, spending hours into the night drawing up ideas. It was true he’d taken little interest in the smaller house they’d recently moved to, though there wasn’t much to do here apart from changing a few colour schemes. But it was too late to change things now.
‘So how is Flora? She really shouldn’t have been so careless — and what sort of man is he?’ His tone of voice implied that he must be some very low species indeed and before she could answer he went on, ‘I suppose she expects you to look after the baby so she can get on with her life.’
‘Only occasionally, as any granny would.’ It was so odd to be talking to him as if everything was normal between them. She felt her guard begin to slip and was tempted from habit to air her concerns for Flora, tell him about her anxiety over the relationship between her and Ben and Ben being married, even ask his advice over Ravenscourt, but she steeled herself against it. He sounded tired and old, hardly a man in the grip of an exciting, sexy affair.
It was tragic that at this time of his life, he had exchanged his family, the only people he could have counted on until the end, for a tacky girl who appeared to be using him as a chance for a visa and a meal ticket. She sensed he was feeling lonely now the girl had gone home for Christmas. Perhaps if he’d sounded contrite, apologised for the dreadful way he had behaved and begged for another chance, she would have weakened. It was Christmas after all, she reminded herself sadly, a time for families, a time to put differences aside.
She was about to say this, thinking that perhaps – for the sake of their children and their coming grandchild – they could try to be friends after all they had shared together when he said brusquely, ‘I can’t stay for the whole holiday, New Year as well. Odile is due back on the thirtieth.’ And all her dreams came tumbling down.
‘You are only there for Christmas.’ She put down the phone, her heart sore, wishing he wasn’t going to be there at all.
Her feelings of sympathy had been set off when Marcus, reported that Odile – just the name of that disagreeable girl made her gag – had already gone back to her family and ‘Dad was alone.’
To be fair, Marcus hadn’t meant to tell his father about the plan to spend Christmas at Ravenscourt – really because it seemed so crazy he didn’t believe it would come off.
‘He sounded sad.’ Marcus watched her reaction with careful interest, perhaps hoping she would forgive Stephen and so assuage his own guilt, if he had any, about the fact that, owing to his hectic social life, he would not be able to see his father after all during the Christmas period. ‘He asked me to have supper with him but I’ve so many parties if we stay here, I probably can’t,’ he finished.
‘Now he might see what it’s like for me,’ Lorna retorted.
‘You’re all right, Mum. You’ve got all your friends and us. I think he’s beginning to regret his behaviour,’ Marcus said hopefully, ‘and he wants to spend Christmas with us.’
‘He is going to Ravenscourt with Adrian and Ivan, and you, if you want to join them.’ Lorna bit the bullet and challenged him. She was about to add, ‘You’ll find it very cold and very dull,’ but she stopped herself; her description might make Marcus insist on having Stephen here with them. But luck was on her side. Although Marcus had thought Ravenscourt sounded fun and had almost decided to join the men for part of the time, he’d met a girl he fancied, who was going to be in London over Christmas, so Marcus felt he’d rather stay in London for the whole holiday.
The telephone rang again. Mechanically, she picked it up, then wished she hadn’t, for it was Stephen again. ‘Is something wrong with your phone? We got cut off,’ he said accusingly, and when she didn’t answer he went on, ‘So when are we going to Ravenscourt?’
‘Day before Christmas Eve, about tea time.’ No doubt he was girding himself to take over the plans.
There had been much discussion over this. Gloria wanted them to go at the last possible moment so they had less time to escape. Rosalind and Lorna wanted them gone as soon as possible so they could finish their preparations in peace. Lorna was afraid that if Stephen was without his comfort blanket girl too long, he might come and hover round them for company.
Stephen had suggested to Marcus that he and Flora should get to know Odile and they must come round in the New Year.
‘No, thanks, Dad,’ Marcus refused, but later, suspiciously near tears, he asked Lorna if she thought his father might marry this girl and so make her their stepmother.
Lorna, confronted by the pain etched in Marcus’s face, and having already panicked about this, imagining all sorts of lurid scenarios including babies, despaired. Seeing his confusion she hugged him, ‘I just don’t know darling, but let’s not go there until we have to, OK?’
‘If he does, I will never see him again.’ He broke free of her and stomped upstairs, slamming his bedroom door on his misery.
The plan was to go down late in the day before Christmas Eve. They hoped that the men would not bother to try and escape in the dark, and once bedded down as it were, would become too lazy to try again. They were not after all young any more and all three were plagued with various ailments common to older people; bad knees, hips and backs. These factors, combined with the comfort of lots of good food, drink and cigars – Fergus had been a great smoker of them and there were many good ones left in their special humidified box – and with luck these treats should keep them there.
‘You can go down with Gloria and Adrian. I’ll go with Rosalind and Ivan.’ Lorna told Stephen firmly. She could not bear to be cooped up so close to him in a car, her heart still yearning for the man he used to be while her mind whirled on in overdrive imagining him and Odile sharing the small, daily intimacies that should have been hers. With luck his wonky hip severely curtailed his sexual performance, if he was still able to have one, she thought darkly.
‘I’ll go down with the children, pick them up whatever time they’re ready,’ Stephen said firmly. ‘I want to talk to Flora. In fact, we’d all better discuss this pregnancy business. I don’t like it at all.’
‘Pot calling the kettle black.’ She retorted.
‘What are you on about?’ he said impatiently.
She ignored this. ‘Better to leave the children to their own devices; they’ve got parties and things. We can’t rely on what time they’ll leave, probably the middle of the night.’
‘All right.’ He sounded unsure. ‘I’ll drive myself. Remind me of the way. It’s near Arundel isn’t it?’
Panic gripped her; even now he wanted to take charge. She said firmly, ‘We can’t take too many cars, there’s nowhere to park them, the land’s flooded.’ She went on desperately, ‘Gloria and Adrian want you to go with them, they haven’t seen you for ages. Get yourself to them around four. See you there.’ She put the phone down, hoping she’d convinced him. Once she’d got him to Ravenscourt, they could leave them there with Clara and Jane Purdy.
Texts and emails – read and deleted – hummed between the three women. Ivan and Adrian had swallowed the story about joining everyone for a Christmas house party and were geared up to go. Ivan, true to form,
had asked if there was room for an unfortunate woman he’d met recently who was keen to experience ‘a proper English Christmas’.
‘She can’t experience it with us,’ Rosalind answered him sharply. ‘It’s is not our house. Lorna has invited us and there’s no room for anyone else, however needy.’
As Rosalind and Ivan had to pass Lorna’s house on the way to the A3, they were going to pick her up. Gloria was leaving from her home in Wimbledon. At ten to four she rang Lorna and whispered, ‘Stephen’s here with a bag of presents. We’ve forgotten those and that might make them suspicious.’
‘Just say we’ve left everything there. You’ve got a suitcase haven’t you?’
‘Yes. See you there, good luck.’ Gloria rang off, leaving Lorna racked with more guilt. Stephen had bought presents, had he one for her? In a weak moment she had bought him the latest crime novel from his favourite author but dithered about giving it to him. She hurriedly wrapped it and pushed it into her bag. The children were both out shopping, leaving their present-buying until the last minute and she would not ask them if they were buying one for their father this year.
Lorna’s doorbell rang and Ivan stood on the doorstep, smiling at her. He kissed her. ‘Here we are, my dear, shall I come in and help with your bags?’
‘I’m fine thanks.’ She took a deep breath; this was lift off. She picked up her bag from the hall, she thrown in a few clothes and presents for Clara and Jane, in case someone checked. She put on the alarm, locked up and went out to their car. Rosalind was in the passenger seat trying not to look anxious.
Difficult Husbands Page 16
